PPPPS. The traveling red dress isn’t always red. It isn’t even always a dress. It’s anything you’ve always wanted but denied yourself because you thought it was too silly. It isn’t. Joy is always worth it. Go and find your personal red dress, my friend.
And wear the hell out of it.
Her project makes me think about Younger Me, and what that little girl would say if she could see me now. I think she'd be proud, for the most part. She'd probably wonder why I didn't become a theoretical astrophysicist (which is what I wanted to be when I was about 8) with two PhDs, whether I still climb monkeybars and if I have finally amassed a collection of fantasy dresses that would put Cinderella to shame.
It's funny how some of the things I thought I wanted along the way ended up not being as important as I believed at the time or never really suited me at all as I grew up and realized what sort of person I was. Some stuff really held true and stood the test of time, however.
I certainly never outgrew the protector mindset that I had when I was little. Since my dad was in the military, he was gone a lot while I was growing up, and my juvenile brain decided that I had to be responsible for protecting my mom and sister while he was gone. This manifested in entertaining ways: I bought various knives in case I ever had to fight off bears or burglars with them (seriously, who sells a set of giant knives to a 9-yr-old?), saved big wine bottles that seemed like they had sufficient heft to be useful in braining intruders, and prowled around the house now and then making sure there were no weird noises happening or anything out of place. During one earthquake when we lived in California (it wasn't serious), I ran in and grabbed my sister out of her crib so she wouldn't get smashed by anything falling. I think I was 4 or 5.
Must. Save. Everyone.
Kim, my little sister, was sleeping in my room one night when I heard someone poking around in the garage. I wasn't sure what was going on, since I thought Mom had gone to bed and Dad was off on one of his trips, so I told Kim to hide under the covers and I grabbed my Braining Bottle, then crept out to try to kill whatever was making the noise. Fortunately I looked before I swung, since it was Mom after all and not a burglar with a death wish.
I'm always at my bravest when I have someone to protect. It's kind of interesting. It isn't really motivated by any sort of self-preservation, since I inevitably tell whomever I'm with to go hide while I take care of whatever it is. I guess I just figure that I'm the only one who's able to deal with it. I don't know. But it's sort of useful how things don't faze me that seem to leave other people in a helpless deer-in-the-headlights state.
Someone's choking? Okay, I'll go Heimlich that candy out. Kid's about to get run over? All right, I'll bellow at the top of my lungs so the person driving the car stupidly will hear me and stop. I've heard it said that people always think they'll do the brave thing when a situation like that happens, but few ever do. I, however, have always done exactly what I think I'll do when something like that crops up. Maybe it's a result of developing that protector mindset at a very young age? Maybe not.
Anyway, this post has gotten really off track. Mostly I wanted to write this to ask you guys what your Red Dresses are. Are they actually red dresses? Something to make you feel bold and beautiful? What strong traits have you had ever since you were little that only grew with you as you became an adult and could really put them to use? What makes you remember when you were ignorant of all the world's problems and felt fearless and powerful, creative and full of life?
I think for me it might be a bow, and the arrows that go with it.
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