If life were a series of postcards today would have two. The first would be the view from the futon in my living room as I looked out the window this afternoon. The sky was the clearest of blue and warm and a cool breeze contrasted with the warmth of the sunbeams that streamed over my skin. It was a day that smiled so brightly on it's own you couldn't help but smile back.
The other postcard is my reflection in the mirror of a gap fitting room. A thin blue spandex shirt on top, my legs squeezed into a pair of green leather pants a size too small and too heavily made to stretch and accomidate. Somewhere in that moment I stopped. A question stepped forward and called for attention.
As I entered the subway I passed a man with a couple piercings that only enhanced his lack of esthetic appeal. His clothes attempted to make some statement but lacked any hope of doing so and instead mumbled randomly.
"What are we trying to say with the clothes that we wear? What am I trying to say with the clothes I wear, with the color in my hair?
All I could come up with from todays outfit was "Hey look! I have tits!" And that is just pathetic. I don't wear tight shirts like that because I really love them. I wear them because I like not having to worry about people questioning my womanhood. But, the truth is I'm much happier in the XL mens T-shirts my dad sent me from Eddie Bauer: thick colored cotton with sleeves that go below my elbows, so long it hangs below my groin and obliterates all but the smallest hint of breasts when I slouch. Cover my legs in cotton leggings and I am a happy girl. That is comfort to me.
Yet, every day I go to work I try to look some part. Some days I'm dressy, some days I'm gothic, some days I'm silly, but rarely am I just comfortably me. This past year has been a lot about finding, and redefining myself. And, although I have made huge, dramatic, strides there is still some part of me that is still trying to please society, still trying too look the part, but not really knowing which part to look. So, it comes back to the question, "What am I trying to say with the clothes that I wear?" And, I think what I want to say is, "I'm happy. I'm happy being me." Because, I am, and that's really all I need.