The Big O

Like a school girl I anticipated the night. There is much to prepare. It has been so long since I needed to worry about the small details. You know, the ones giving sparkle to an expected magical night. I calculated everything. I trusted my heart. I was finally ready.

Let me regress.

Mom and I had the talk. Over-and-over she assured me I could not be in safer hands. It was important I trust. Awakening what is there. I would be cared for. A beautiful experience waits. One I was assured to be forever precious. The mental strain is intense. Yet I commit.

It is going to be my first time.

I adore being dressed up. If ever there is an occasion to doll up and get my pretty on this is it. I marched into Nordstrom purchasing five dresses. I use my living room as a runway. After a one-on-one consultation every single one returned. There is not a keeper in the bunch.

I ask Mom to join me in returning to the drawing board. Together we dive in choosing an ink colored dress. It is form fitting in all the “right” places. I really want a dress knee length to compliment the three inch silver/gold glitter heals. Two words: Irresistible and swanky. Pretty much damn hot. I am in LOVE with these heals.  

Next to choose is jewelry. Dress for a wedding. What to wear? I want to shine, but not be overdone. I need a necklace not one cutting off my neckline. If it is to long my perkiness will swallow it up. How will I wear my hair? If it is up the dangle is important. And I wear it down will my hair fall over my face or tangle in swinging earrings? The considerations are endless.

I cannot start in on the unmentionables dilemma.

This covers the background.

I count down the days. It is as if it would never arrive. I basically quit sleeping. Soon enough there will be time to cozy up into bed. As days will do it arrives right on schedule. I am a bundle of worry questioning my preparedness. I go forward in my daily routine. A couple weeks prior I arranged to have a hair appointment. The purpose was to kill two birds with one stone: keep me busy as well as create beautiful.

Forty-five minutes later beauty is accomplished. I chose a swept up style. It is a solid compromise of put together and tousled. If it falls from place it will seem fitting. A lady needs ready for mishaps. Together the dress, hair, makeup, jewelry and heals is alluring. I accomplish the underlying goal. A sophisticated woman (me for one night) on the outside can be muddled on the inside. We stand guard.

It is time.

It is 5:30. We meet. The butterflies start fluttering. Palms are sticky. Mouth is dry. Holy shit! What am I doing? Here I am. Here I will stay until the end. The single thought getting me through is I will finally do it. Finally! It will no longer be hope, but reality. I will leave new and different from when I came. Really, it is thrilling. It is a tease all night.

It is 8:15. I go into the room earlier than expected. It is dark. I mean really dark. There are curtains hiding the space. I am shaking. Repeatedly, I ask myself not to hyperventilate. If ever there is a time not to lose my shit it is now. Everyone says it is in and out. I take comfort in this knowledge that completion from start to finish will not take long. A calmness takes over. 

It is finally the moment. I hope it is not an out of body experience. I do not want to be outside looking in. I want to be present.

The lighting is perfect. I can hardly see past a few feet. The silence makes my heart race. I try holding back tears. I wonder if what I said was clear? All in all, I held it together. Together as in meaning I did not pack it in leaving in the middle. My worst fear!

I could hardly believe it. It is beyond anything I imagined. I had the Big O.

They stood. They clapped. The noise grew in number. I am able to see over the lights enough to make out caring wonderful human beings. I trusted turning over my story to Listen To Your Mother. It was supreme magic.

Tonight changed me. I am braver. In seven minutes all I have been working for arrived: The Open Balance. I felt honored to share freely with strangers and those who came to support little ole me. A night we will not soon forget. Trust me The Big O is transforming.

r 

This is show biz, people.

I left Alberta Rose Theater with a blaze of fire.

I am a story teller. I can call myself a writer. I am found.

I give Listen To Your Mother its very own Big O.

I hope it was as good for you as it was for me.

Thank you, Portland. It was in a word: exquisite.