If you know me personally, then you know that they do not come much more "girly" than myself.
I am not coordinated for the sporting events, nor do I have much understanding of how they transpire.
I do not find bodily functions hilarious, or appropriate.
I do not enjoy bugs and creatures.
I do not like beer. (But, yes, I will always try a sip when it's offered.)
I am not a pyromaniac.
Super Heros do not make my world go around.
I love pearls. I love pedicures. I love lip gloss. If my feet were large enough to wear high heels, I would love those too. I love to sip Tequila.
More than anything, I do love a good love story. The plot of two people intertwining throughout time and, and, somewhere down that far road they find their stories linked for moments, or a lifetime.
A few of my favorites include: Ever After, Shakespeare In Love, Hope Floats, Return To Me and You've Got Mail. I've seen these movies dozens of times; I can quote them, and yet, I get completely caught up in them every single time. If you need to speak to me, I will have to push pause so that I don't miss an emotional, magnetizing moment. I will STILL cry in every single one, especially, Return To Me. The story is pure emotional genius. I could never have thought it up in my wildest dreams. Perfection.
And.
For all this crying, princess-yness... For a lifetime I have lived surrounded almost solely by males. I have been plopped in the middle of bugs, grime, cars, motorcycles, oil, power tools, sports, beer, and the occasional laugh about bodily functions. (Occasional because that is all I will tolerate.)
Where my girls at?!
It seems interesting that someone so girly would have no one to share that with. No one to understand why I need a few moments to myself to watch the same heart wrenching movie for the 41st time.
Why God has placed only brothers in my life, mostly only male cousins. Only sons and not daughters.
As I was watching a movie just this morning and the men in my house came through on their way about their day, an answer came to me...
I'm daring to be a princess in a world of Batman. I'm uniquely positioned to be treasured. I'm showing all the men in my life what it means to love a lady. (Which may or may not be up for debate when it comes to eating things like chicken wraps or wings.) It's a special bond that mothers share with sons. A home base. A model for perhaps a future bride. Soft. But strong.
When I roll my eyes because I am the only one at the dinner table not laughing about pure male randomness, I'll tuck that away. When my sons bring home, "the one," I will swallow hard and know with such a deep joy that I loved them first and for always.
I couldn't and wouldn't trade what God has blessed me with. All my brothers that know my heart and look out for me. Cousins who built excellent forts and know stories. Sons that have captured every piece of my heart.
It's nice to be a princess.
Because that means I have a tribe of males to speak calm and rational logic into my world.
After this week....I'm certain it is exactly what I need.
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