Yesterday, I went shopping at a clothing store I frequent regularly. As I was walking around, I started to panic a bit. I started thinking "How is this new me supposed to dress? What kind of clothes does a smoking hot divorcee wear without looking like a total slut?" All of a sudden my normal "mom gear" I would have gravitated toward (Khaki bermuda shorts and bright t-shirts) didn't feel right anymore. Not only am I stepping forward into a new life, I've lost a lot of weight. I don't want to be that stereotypical former fat girl trying to show every ounce of flesh she can and not get arrested, but I don't want to be boring anymore. I don't want to wear denim capris. Or khaki capris. Fuck it, I don't want to wear capris anymore. What are with those anyway? What a ridiculous length of pants!
Even though it started with clothing, it opened up a whole new conversation with myself as I was trying things on in the dressing room. Who am I? I used to be wife and mother. I'm still mother for sure. No longer wife. I'm ok with that, but I've been wife longer than mother. I've been "Tony's girl" for more than half my life. The prospect of being just Sandi is both amazing and terrifying. I want to it, but still a part of me doesn't. Why? Because it will be hard.
Once a few years ago, my dad told me that I never do anything that's hard. I will always choose to do things the easy way. Even though I hated to hear it, but he was right. Since then, I've tried not to take the easy route in most things. This is the hard route, but I'm willing to take it. Granted the intital decision wasn't mine, but I'll take it now gladly. I am holding the golden ticket and just like Charlie Bucket, I'm going to have good things come from it.