books, fall, and scarves

I know it’s just the beginning of August, but I crave fall. My favorite season seems that much farther away since we moved deeper south. Still, I can sense a change in the air, a shortening of days; the casting of shadows lengthens, and the morning feels a bit cooler (well, maybe that’s just wishful thinking). The boys and I are already reading Halloween books; I’m thinking of spicy breads and beverages, and in the morning I add an extra dash of cinnamon to our oatmeal. I’m soooo ready for the coziness of autumn!

Masks

I used to make myself up everyday. I was in my twenties, and I had a great deal of self expression, which is good, but what was truly at play was a need to put on a mask so that people wouldn’t see the real me, the vulnerable and insecure me. I was a contradiction, I wanted to be seen and hide. I thought my self worth was wrapped in how I looked and what I did for others. All in an effort to like me.