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What a Difference a Dress Makes

15 Jan

Aaaand…. We’re back!

Just got back from a lovely and much needed 72 hours with the hubby (that were also internet-free). What I’m posting now is something I wrote thursday night. Happy reading!

****

I’m writing this on Thursday night, 1am. I have resorted to a word document because there is no internet here, but I am so full I just have to empty some of it out in words.

First of all – Thank you, Marie!

A couple of weeks back, I talked about not feeling like a woman. Marie suggested then in the comments that I put on a pretty dress and have my husband buy me dinner.

Shmerson and I took it a step further. Tonight, one of shmerson’s best friends got married. The wedding was in Jerusalem – a two hour drive from our home, so we decided to get a room at a nice bed and breakfast nearby and make a weekend of it.

Our room had a huge Jacuzzi and I came in a woman with a plan. We got to the place at 4pm. I took over the Jacuzzi with my last bath bomb from lush, which I’ve been hoarding jealously for way too long. I brought along the glitter soap that squish bought me ages ago and I hardly use. I brought along every bit of make up I had, a bunch of jewelry, a dress I love, and high heels.

I took an hour long bath. I did my hair – sparkly hair band and all. I spent half an hour on my make up. I put on my huge earring, my favorite perfume, and when I was done – I felt beautiful.

The evening started out a little iffy. Daddy’s company strikes again and I was a bit distracted by work.

I barely knew anyone there except the happy couple and a few of shmerson’s friends, but we had both decided that we would do our best to make the bride and groom feel loved, because we saw how much it meant to us at our own wedding.

While still distracted by work, the evening started out with cocktails, where shmerson and I sat with an acquaintance of his. Immediately the subject of children came up, as he is also recently married, and he was pretty open about them having trouble conceiving.

I immediately told him about our miscarriages. Openly. It was a pretty great conversation.

Then something magic slowly started happening. As the evening went on, I found myself surrounded by a bunch of women, some I knew, some not, and we all started talking. I opened up about my journey and they shared theirs. I felt like my old self again. I intuitively picked up their signs of unhappiness and after they listened, I listened as well.

One women commented on how I may as well be a mind reader.

Another just called me beautiful.

Then I made good on shmerson’s and my promise. I danced until my feet practically fell off, and when they did, I became the bride and groom’s water boy. If I couldn’t dance – at least I could keep them hydrated. I felt connected. I felt happy.

I noticed that the groom was unhappy with the DJ. I stepped in and fixed it. It was like I was completely intuitive about everything. It was the same old me – only magnified by everything that makes me good and happy. Everything that makes me feel special.  Everything about myself that I thought I had lost or had been gone so long that I forgot about it completely.

My intuitiveness, my motherly instinct. My uncanny talent of reading and understanding people. My charm. My beauty. My ability to be open for and to open up to others.

On the dance floor the groom came up to me and thanked me for being so sensitive to the couple’s needs and taking such good care of him. I smiled and said that I loved them and I just wanted to make them happy. He said he loved me too.

Shmerson told me later that one of his friends, that had never met me before, came up to him and told him that he thought I was really nice, and really beautiful. Wow.

At the end of the night, with the place nearly empty, I took a seat and looked at the bride and groom, and my husband bouncing up and down beside them.

Then I thought to myself “I made friends today.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, because I knew it was the truth, and it had been so long since I opened myself up to the world in such a way.

With the evening over, Shemrson and I sat in the car. I was overflowing with joy, as was he.

I told him that I feel that we’re slowly tiptoeing away from tragedy and toward happiness.

I told him “it’s two steps forward, and one step back, but I think we’ll make it.”

And he answered: “Well, that makes it a dance.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I started bawling.

Shmerson looked at me and said that he was happy to see me crying tears of joy for a change.

So was I.

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7 Responses to “What a Difference a Dress Makes”

  1. runnyyolk January 16, 2011 at 01:33 #

    Awesome, I love this post. So glad you found some joy in your weekend 🙂

  2. Marie January 16, 2011 at 05:39 #

    Yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!

    I’ve heard Israeli weddings are pretty incredible.

    Can we PLEASE see a picture of this earring?

    • mommyodyssey January 16, 2011 at 12:09 #

      🙂 Israeli weddings are fun. Especially since they’re much less formal – no bridal party or any of that stuff.
      I promise I will post a pic of the earring soon!

  3. slcurwin January 16, 2011 at 19:26 #

    That sounds like an amazing night, I’m so glad you had such a good time and made some new friends.

    How was the bomb? Still good?

    • mommyodyssey January 16, 2011 at 23:26 #

      Thanks 🙂 Miraculously the bomb was still fabulous. Gotta love lush!

  4. me0me January 18, 2011 at 20:24 #

    this made me happy. and teary. sounds like a beautiful, wonderful night.

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