Lighter than Air

Those who know me and know me well know that I'm not exactly a woman (in spite of some biological evidence to the contrary. And those who know me extra well know that I'm not exactly the kind of person to wear makeup. In fact, for a long I've hated the stuff. Symbol of the femininity that I don't have and that everyone expects me to have. Expects in the way that's so stuck in this society that it's actually more noteworthy if I don't sport extra colours on my face. Adding those colours doesn't make me stand out; it just makes me fit in.

And I had no interest in fitting in. Fitting it meant one more step toward people who I had little in common with, shows like Jersey Shore and other reality TV, about clothes I didn't care about and hot actors and music that gave me a headache.

Then something changed. For the past little while, I've been wearing those colours I used to dispise. I've found a nice combo of purple with silver glitter that I really like the look of, when I'm not going with something darker like midnight blue and black on my eyelids. My nails are painted, black like I haven't had them in years.

Why? Because of this guy:



A combination of, "Here, listen to this song," and someone turning the radio on at work introduced me to Adam Lambert's music, and I have to say, I was hooked. Normally not my style, but good god, that guy's voice was enough to hook anyone! So I started finding more of his music, looking into more about him, and, among other things, falling for his style and expression.

And that was when I started to wonder about makeup. Not as a way of fitting in, but as a way of standing out. Expressing who I was, using colour to make my own image and to show the world what I actually am and how I actually feel.

Yesterday, I was in a lot of pain again. Unprepared for it. That overgrown mass of cells and overblown collection of symptoms took its toll, and I wasn't exactly in a position where I could get comfortable and just wait for it to pass. I was stuck at work, couldn't leave, and just had to push through it.

And every time I looked in the mirror in the bathroom there, I saw the colour and glitter on my eyelids, and I felt stronger.

Here's how I looked at it. Not only did Adam Lambert inspire me to take a few risks in regard to my look, but he's also more than a little responsible for inspiring me to actually do something with the music that's been living inside me for years with no outlet. I want to sing. I want to let other people hear me sing. I want to take a stab at actually singing in public, locally, maybe trying out for Saint John Idol if it actually comes around again. This guy gave me no small dose of courage and determination to do something I've wanted to do for ages but been too shy to try.

So I looked at the glitter, that shine in the light, and I thought of that. I thought that this guy can do things that I want to be able to do, and he's got the strength to be able to do it, and dammit, I'm not going to let pain get in the way of me living my dreams. Or at least pushing for them, even if I don't make it, and I can at least say that I tried.

That's what I see when I look at the glitter. The strength to get past all this and to get where I want to be. The bravery to look past what other people are looking at and to express myself, however that expression comes about. Knowing that the pain will pass, and once it passes, I'm going to sing again!

All thanks to one guy who doesn't know who I am.

I don't say that bitterly. I think if he knew who I was, I'd be intimidated as all fuck, and no amount of glitter would change that! XD