Carrie Bradshaw said, “…and if you find someone who loves the you that you love? Then that’s just fabulous.” I thought of this quote as I played in my moptop trying to decide what to wear tomorrow. I love right-before-bed-me, I thought.
The me who smells faintly like manoa oil and Shea.
The me who always wears pink lipgloss because my toothpaste makes my lips dry.
The me who sings songs into the mirror and prays my neighbor is a heavy sleeper.
The me who twists up her messy moptop and sleeps in a satin bonnet.
I remember very clearly in my last relationship how methodical I was when it came to hair and how he saw me. It was my preference that I always be put together. I even retired my staple basketball shorts in favor for more flattering lounge wear. I also remember how exhausting that was.
There is something very exciting to me about turning 28. I am exactly four weeks from my birthday and the closer it gets the more…cemented I feel. “I’m so much prettier when I let it go. I’m so beautiful when I let it go.” Jill got it exactly right. I have let go of a lot. Grudges, anger, frustrations, disappointments, expectations…
One of my old bosses said to me one day, “something happened when I turned 27…I stopped giving a damn. And I’ve given less of a damn every year since then. By the time you reach 40 there are no more to give!” I love her for that because it has been my experience. And so as I move into another year of giving less of a damn I find I love me more. And perhaps before-bed-me is the me that gives less of a damn. She is happy and carefree and ready to dream. Armed only with sweet smells and pink lips. Leaving imagination to fill in all the blanks.
It used to make me weary to sleep with people. Like actually physically rest. And maybe its metaphorical, you can’t share your dreams with just anybody.
So lastly, he has to love the me that has to write every night before bed. Because I love her.