to fight or to flee?
for weeks now, my best friend and i have been texting each other all day, everyday. it’s not that we are obsessed with texting (i’m actually the laziest texter in the world), but we simply cannot find the time to see each other and talk face-to-face. what with our crazy work schedules and incessant life drama, not much else can be squeezed in.
just yesterday, after much complaining and contemplating on the topic of decoding “boy talk” (i know – it’s SO high school), she finally asked me, to fight or to flee? this of course referred to the guy she’s been fixated on for days and is apparently sending her mixed signals.
noticing the panic in her words, i decided to encourage her. i replied, in my most audacious SMS-tone: i find that i always fight, to the death. indeed, it rarely ends well; happily-ever-afters now seem more ludicrous than ever. but it’s true what they say – it’s better to have tried and failed than to never know. and i meant every word.
so it got me to think about other things, other aspects of my life. do i really always choose to fight? do i charge in, without hesitation, game-face on?
with fashion, for example, i know for a fact that i am always ready to go to war. when i step out the front door with whatever i am wearing, i’ll surely stand by it. even if it is a sack with armholes that i have paired with heels. come to think of it, where IS my sack?!
it also made me wonder: where do we get the courage to walk out into the world, wearing our specially-picked ensemble? i’m certain that most of us have put together outfits that are less than subtle. in our rooms, facing our private full-length mirrors, they are our masterpieces. inspired by a myriad of things, people and experiences. they express who we are, or perhaps who we want to become. our little fantasies.
but we know the “real world” will be harsh. we will get persecuted for choosing to be different. judged for standing out in the homogeneous flock.
nonetheless, we do it still. armed with our latest thrifted finds, our peculiar little frills and frou-frous, our too-bright-for-words scarves and tights, we march on. brave. defiant. it doesn’t matter what they think, what they say. we follow our bliss.
now, i think i will send a text message to my best bud, telling her, fight or flee? it’s up to you, my dearest. if you decide to risk it and be completely wonderful but the guy turns out to be a huge gigantic asswipe, at least you can pick out special i-hate-boys-they-suck-the-life-out-of-you-but-nevermind-i’m-still-oh-so-fabulous outfits for an entire week.
THAT will be fun.