Fucking Adorable

When I was in the 4th grade, I went to family church camp and sang in the choir, which was mostly composed of adults.  My beautiful mother sang soprano, and when the choir director told me I had to sing alto, I burst into uncontrollable tears.  The choir director, clearly shocked at this unbelievable display of emotion, relented and said "oh, you were just nervous.  You can be a soprano."

It was kind. But...  I'm an alto.  (Which you probably wouldn't guess if you spoke to me, as I have a rather high-pitched voice.)  And even in the 4th grade, I knew that Altos were comic side-kicks.  Not romantic leads.  It is the only reason that could possibly make sense why I reacted as I did.  I wanted to be pretty.

This year, for the first time ever, I bought a sexy, slutty, adorable Halloween costume.  And I have to say, I look fucking adorable.  Absolutely adorable.  I wouldn't mind if my tummy were a bit flatter, but I have great legs, going up to the adorable, crinolines under the skirt, great cleavage, a nice hourglass.  I really feel adorable in this, and that is really cool.  I spent over $100 when you count the adorable, come-fuck-me shoes that have leather criss-crossed on suede, like a corset, but subtle enough I'm not embarrassed to wear them (and while they are 4" heels, it is really only 3.5" because the toe has plenty of padding).

I look cuter than I ever thought I would look.  At 40.  Maybe I am making peace with who I am, rather than who I want to be.  I do think that feeling that way about myself is totally worth the $100.  Even if I never get the courage to wear it out of the apartment!