Last Saturday started out like so many others.
Another day on my own.
Nothing planned.
Nothing special.
But something in me chose differently.
Getting up early, I decided to bring a close friend flowers for her first booth.
Before leaving, I stood in my closet…
and there it was.
My “seventies” outfit.
My long jean skirt,
my fun, hippie-like belt,
the earrings…
For weeks, it had been hanging there.
Not being worn.
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, that fear guided me.
After my stroke,
it felt like parts of me
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.
There didn’t need to be 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 to compliment my outfit.
“It’s the skirt,” I told them, laughing.
And for once…
everything felt easy.
Not forced.
Not planned.
Just… natural.
Gone was 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.
That feeling reminded me a little of the shift I described in I’m Starting to Say Yes More Often.
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.
