Last Saturday…
started out like so many others.

I woke up thinking
it would be another day on my own.

Nothing planned.
Nothing special.

But something in me
chose differently.

I decided to get up early
and bring a close friend flowers
for her first booth.

Before I left,
I stood in my closet…

and there it was.

My “seventies” outfit.

My long jean skirt,
my fun, hippie-like belt,
the earrings…

I had been looking at it for weeks.

Not wearing it.

Waiting.

Waiting for the “right” moment.
A special day.
Someone to be with.

If I’m honest…

I think it was fear.

For a long time,
I let that fear guide me.

After my stroke,
there were parts of me
that felt like they had been left behind

confidence,
joy,
a sense of ease.

That outfit
represented something
I hadn’t fully stepped back into.

And that morning…
something shifted.

I realized
I didn’t need a reason.

It didn’t need a special moment.

No one else needed to be there with me.

So I wore it.

What I didn’t expect…

was how much
that one decision
would open up the rest of the day.

A busy market.
Helping my friend.
Talking with people I didn’t know.
Laughing—really laughing.

At one point,
strangers stopped me
to compliment my outfit.

I laughed and told them,
“It’s the skirt.”

And for once…

everything felt easy.

Not forced.
Not planned.
Just… natural.

I wasn’t inside
that quiet space
I had grown used to.

I was out in the world again

being seen,
connecting,
moving freely.

It wasn’t about the outfit.

It was about
what it represented.

A step back toward myself.

A reminder
that I don’t have to wait
to feel like me again.

Maybe we all have something like that

something we’ve been holding onto,
waiting for the right moment.

Maybe the moment
isn’t something that arrives.

Maybe…

it’s something we choose.

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