Inner Strength at BlogHer -- Revisited

 Last year was life-changing. I wore a gold skirt highlighting the ass I can't hide because it's an ass I was told was worth highlighting. And then I strutted down a runway in front of all of BlogHer, the Internet, and Creation.

And I felt beautiful.

We're all about to set foot into a jam-packed weekend with new connections and rekindled friendships and shiny pretty opportunities and Community with the Big C reminding us all why we felt at home when we found the BlogHer Network. But before we do, let me first congratulate the wonderful women who have been selected to participate in this year's fashion show! You'll never forget it.

You'll never want to.

Last year, I got to walk that runway in what turned out to be the inaugural event. And I thank BlogHer for the experience. Good luck, break a leg, rock those stilettos, and just be in the moment.

What you are about to read  was published on August 8 of 2012 on Girl Body Pride.

See you guys on the flipside.

***

Maybe it sounds like bullshit when someone else says that things happen for a reason and in their own time and when they are meant to.

And maybe it’s true but the things you are wanting to happen haven’t happened yet and it isn’t their time yet and they are meant to be but tomorrow instead of today.

I woke up one morning with Girl Body Pride inside of my head and just a few short weeks later it was real. I wished for just a moment that I had thought it up sooner, but time, reasons, fate…remember?

And then Elisa Camahort Page sent an email inviting me to take part in the BlogHer 2012 Fashion Show. And I almost said no are you crazy, and I would never but I stopped myself because this thing that was happening, this opportunity, was supposed to be and at the right time and exactly why Girl Body Pride came to be. Maybe I would never before. But it’s about damned time I did now.

I don’t think I’m beautiful on the outside. But I feel pretty damned good about myself on the inside. And every morning I wake up with a chipmunk-voiced reminder that likes to refer to me as Mama that it’s time to Put Up or Shut Up. She is my reason to quiet the voice that tells me I am not worth my own efforts because she will mimic my actions much longer than she will remember my words. For her, I will pretend I am not broken so she can at least grow up knowing that inner strength is a thing and confidence is not an automatic and every day that I pretend for her (and you), a tiny piece of myself will heal.

I don’t think I’m beautiful on the outside. But I feel pretty damned good about myself on the inside. But for these few moments? I felt fucking spectacular.

This? This is why I said yes.