Flake, Part II: The Big and Small of It

Last week I wrote about feeling like a flake despite the evidence suggesting the contrary. I was writing from the middle of a funk. When I am in the funk, I have a hard time remembering that this has happened before. I have a hard time remembering that it will pass. When I am in the funk, all I want is to get out of it, and when I can’t find a quick exit, I want to know what triggered the funk so I can avoid it in the future.

I can’t pinpoint when the cloud moved over me. I do know that since the wedding, I’ve been trying to catch my breath, to bask in the love that surrounded Henry and me and continues to hold us; but rehearsals, performances, meetings, deadlines, and the stuff of day-to-day life in a house with two little ones have kept me running. I put on my wedding dress one last time this morning before sending it off for cleaning and preservation, stepped into my sexy red peep toe pumps, and walked around our bedroom. I took a picture of myself in the mirror. Then I took off the dress and lay it on our bed. I’m a little sad I won’t get to wear it again.

I felt big the last time I wore that dress. I like feeling big, solid, pumped full of the love in my life and confident that I am stepping toward something good.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the people in my life who make me feel small. There aren’t many. I choose my friends well, and I am pretty good about protecting myself from those who need to stand on me in order to look taller. But fate is a funny thing, and every few years it presents me with the opportunity to engage the funk on a deeper level because the funk only invades my soul when I feel small.

Next week: Flake, Part III: El Viento

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Published in: on December 13, 2011 at 4:37 pm  Leave a Comment  

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