Jumping In With Both Shoes, or How I Spent My Monday Evening (I just wanted to watch Gotham, sheez!)

     ****Blog was actually written Monday night****
     After I wrote my blog Sunday, I ended up having a discussion with one of my friends which gave me the impression that only focusing on ONE pair of shoes is no longer an attractive trait to have in the age of The Bachelor and The Bachelorette. I'm still really confused over how this whole dating thing works but, if it is better to try on more than one pair of shoes at once then I guess I am back in the dating app pool. Heck, I was great at juggling dates in high school. How much harder can it be now? Sadly, I may find out that I'm the only honest person in a game playing world.
     And, not being the type of woman that does anything small, I didn't just sign up for one dating site app, but FOUR.  Plenty of Fish, Tinder, OKCupid, and Zoosk. I have also been on Mormon Match for about two weeks, but I think there are only about a total of 12, TWELVE guys on that website. And one of them is not even a real person. I'm going to blame it on the fact that it is a newer dating site and not the fact that it may very well be a crappy dating site. It's free. I can't complain. I think I'm on another one also but there are never any alerts and I have found no way to delete your profile so I'm just going to pretend it doesn't exist. It's easier that way.
     There will be obvious benefits from this shoe shopping tour: A) I'll never have to worry about a boring weeknight or weekend again; B) I'll make friends; C) I'll have plenty of writing material for my blog; D) It will definitely be an adventure, and E) You just never know.  Here's the obvious problem I can see from trying on so many shoes at once: How the heck do I remember who is who?! It was so much easier with just one shoe at a time. Which site was which new shoe on? Who did I tell what information to? How do I remember who has what job or which kids or where they live? My head is full enough as it is with all of my own information, how do I remember every one else's information also? I'm going to have to take notes, I can see. I'll need to work out a code.
     My search criteria? Preferably over 6' (but I will not weed out anyone around 5'9" or up. It's personality, not height that makes the man), non-smoker, over the age of 40, not overweight (he can be pudgy but he has to be able to keep up with me), and can write a proper sentence. This is easy to tell right away just by reading their profile. No capitals or punctuation in the proper places, we have an issue. I'd also like to add positivity to my criteria. Mr. Cranky Pants need not apply. I don't want to hear about how your ex-wife hurt you. Time to move on, please. And I don't mind it if the guy is from somewhere outside of the general Utah area. I'm not tied to beautiful downtown Salt Lake City. Moving somewhere that doesn't have an icy winter would be preferable. Adventurers and travelers are always appealing. Most importantly, please be a nice, honest guy. (Good luck finding that guy)
     I've uploaded five profile pictures, including one nutty one just to get a sense of my personality. One man commented that I was beautiful except when I "pulled faces." Oh well. Block! All of my pictures are recent because it's pointless to use one from years ago. I only have one full body shot, just to keep them guessing.
     I started at about 9:45 last night getting all signed on and within an hour I was chatting with four different men just on POF (Plenty of Fish) alone! I was only able to get signed up on POF and Tinder because of my new friends. I didn't have time to sign up on the other two. By 10:00 am this morning, I was chatting with 12. Of course, I've also blocked about four others just because they were plain icky. Who starts a conversation with "Wow"?  That's it. Nothing else. There are several men that are still on the site since the last time I was a member but, I guess I'm still on the market, aren't I? I shouldn't judge. I did come across one man who put in his profile that he thought we should know that his wife lives 800 miles away. Um, why are you on a "dating" site? (Why am I here again?)
     My first "friend" on POF is a real estate agent with 6 different photos showing 6 different age and weight changes. I'm not sure which is his current weight. By his profile name, I can tell he is obviously a snow skier (I should mention, I am not). He seems to be more concerned about whether I wear socks to bed or if I know how to hang onto the back of a Harley. I think his intention is to flirt, not connect. He's already asking for my phone number to send me pictures. Yeah, I bet. Definitely something to write about in a future blog.  I do have one issue with him, other than his innuendoes: He does not smile in any of his pictures. He even sent me two more pictures via email. Still no smile. You think that after I mentioned the fact that he isn't smiling, he'd at least send me a picture with a smile. Not looking good for this guy. I think he might have bad teeth.
     ****Editor's note: Since I started this particular blog this morning,  I  already have scheduled two dates through POF.  One for Thursday with "Mystery Guy" (doesn't want to give me his name because it thinks it adds to the mystery) who is an artist and set designer for movies. A+ for stuff in common!! Date number two is with "Hans," a German living in Provo, on Friday evening.  He's talking about going to a movie. You don't go to a movie on the first date, kids!! You can't get to know each other in a movie. I'll be honest, he makes me a little nervous.****
     I'll talk about the other dating sites I've signed up on in my next blog since I've written so much here just about POF.  I think I also need to note that I am not a serial dater. It may have appeared at the beginning of this that I am. (Recent rumor insists that I am a "player" or a "cheater". This is not true. Once in a relationship, I am faithful.)
      This has become more of a social experiment than anything else. I don't understand the appeal of someone wanting to date more than one person over someone who would rather be with you more than anyone else. To me, that is more appealing. That one person who shows you that they'd rather focus their time and interest on you. They want to catch a glimpse at your soul, find out what makes you who you are. What causes you to smile and laugh. What causes your heart to practically sing. Your toes to curl. What causes you to sigh. What upsets you or makes you cry. And if you do cry, they don't turn away. I hope I find that one person who touches my soul before he touches my heart. I don't think he's trolling the dating sites, though. I'd be surprised if he was. I know I've had that type of relationship before but it's been a long time. I'm not so sure that I'll find that guy again at my age. The ones I'm meeting so far only seem to have one goal in mind, and it's not to touch my soul.

   

I Hate Dating (or Another Peek Into My Brain) (or Sheri's Thought Barf) (or Shoe Shopping Continued)

     I recently had a conversation with a friend of mine about how new I am at this dating thing, and how I really don't understand the rules. This conversation led me to trip back in time last night to my history in dating. Not a pretty one, to say the least:
     I "technically" didn't start dating until I was 16. This of course does not include the boyfriend at 14, or those non-date adventures when I was 15 (getting a ride home from a dance with a boy and stopping on the way for ice cream, or the time I went to homecoming with a boy after my sister dropped me off at the football game at one school and my mom picked me up from the dance at another school. You cannot work the system with my mom involved and not get caught). I was allowed to go on group dates (a seemingly innocent Mormon thing) when I was 15 though. But, my first official date as a budding 16 year old was with the high school jock. He was so handsome, but that boy was all over my face on the first date and asked me to go steady with him that same night (yes, we used the word "steady" even in the 70s). I said yes (because I didn't know what else to say) and never went out with him again. No skill involved there. Did I mention that I went home after the date and immediately washed my face because I was really grossed out by the face/tongue attack? Yep. That was my first official dating experience. 
     After that, the dating thing is kind of a blur until I was a junior. I went to a lot of church dances (yes, Mormons know how to dance and love doing it) which was a great way to meet prospective dates. I carried a torch for a guy for a couple of years (I was "group dating" him and then when he caught wind of jock guy asking me to go steady, he never wanted to go out with me again) but then I met serious boyfriend numero uno. He was a senior at another school, I was a junior. We met at a church dance. Now here is where my definition of "dating" becomes convoluted:
     I do not think that in my (ew!) almost 40 off and on years of dating experience I ever went on a date that did not lead to a relationship. Seriously. High school, college, between marriages, etc. every time I started "dating" someone, it led to a relationship. And that is why I think I am still confused over how this system works! I have not gone on a million dates, or a million dates with different guys. My dating experience is limited BECAUSE of the fact that one date led to two dates, led to a relationship. Yes, I dated more than one guy at the same time when I was a senior in high school (and I truly apologize to all of them for that fact) but they were ALL relationships in my head. Sadly, I juggled men well back then, but I do not have that mental relationship juggling skill now. 
     I recently had an experience where I tried to rekindle a relationship with someone I had juggled back in high school (again, I have already apologized profusely to him for my behavior back then). I thought we were both in a position in our lives now where we were on the same page. Silly me. Turns out, I was like a contestant on The Bachelor. He was trying to cultivate a relationship with someone he met on a dating (trolling) site yet leading me to believe I was the only one. When he finally told me he was seeing someone else also (he's the juggler now), his words were "I am trying to decide between the two of you. You're not my second choice, that's what makes it so hard." Say what? "Insert name here, will you accept my final rose?" If I'm not your second choice then really, is there a choice to make at all? Here's a little secret about me:
     I am not a competitor. Never have been, never will be. If you tell me that it's between me and another girl, I am going to give up practically right then and there. I spent 22 years fighting for the love of a man I thought was forever. When he tells you three times that he has promised his heart to someone else (at the 21 year mark), you can only take rejection so many times before you just quit trying. Do I really need to beg someone to love me? Aren't I just an obvious choice after 22 years of marriage? In the case of Mr. Bachelor in training, wasn't I the obvious choice because I was that comfortable shoe?! We'd known each other for over thirty years. She was a new shoe! (see previous blog post) In the last 4 years, I've had my heart stomped on exactly three times (ex-husband, abusive ex-boyfriend, the "bachelor"). Call it self-preservation. Call it whatever. I've got to protect my heart from further stomping so I'm not going to compete for love. Those women on the bachelor just look trashy and desperate. My motto is "I'm lonely, not desperate." 
    (I apologize for the brief vent right there). Anyway, back to dating. *shudder* I hate it. What is dating anyway? A chance to get to know someone. But, WHY? Because you are trying on those shoes to see if you want to keep wearing them exclusively, correct? But do I really want to try on two or three or more pairs of shoes all at the same time to see which one is the best? I only have two feet. Do I really want to wear two different pairs of shoes at the same time? Sounds icky. Most likely I'm going to try out that one pair of shoes exclusively so I can focus on what makes them work on my feet. I'm not a serial dater. Even with ADD, I can only focus on one pair of shoes at a time. 
     So who are these people who can date more than one person at a time? How do they do that? I had another conversation with a young single male co-worker recently. He had been seeing a girl he met on a dating site (ack) and he thought they had something going on. Then she told him that she was seeing someone else also and trying to decide between them. WHAT? AGAIN? Being like me, he was stepping aside and making her choice easier. 
    My feeling is, if you are still looking then I'm not enough of a lure to make you stop. Why keep trying on those shoes? I'm sure I'm all wrong about feeling that way. I remind you, I am new at this. My previous dating experience told me that when you go out with someone more than once, it's leading to a relationship (or just IS one) and the focus lies in that. I don't generally keep seeing someone after one or two dates if I know it's not going to be something rather lengthy. I'm not a serial dater. I'm not out to get a free meal or movie or whatever. I'm looking for that one person that sets my heart and soul on fire. If there's a spark on the first date, I'm going to keep adding fuel to the flame to see where it goes. 
     I think I mentioned in one of my other posts about the three date guy. He was someone I met on a dating site and he was "perfect." 6'5", funny, great job as a miner (yes, an actual miner), looked like a cross between John Wayne and Kyle Chandler (IMDB him, folks), solidly built. I thought this was someone I could get to know better. BUT, every date (there were only three) it was a struggle to think of things to say. I kept trying because I wanted it to work. He was perfect.  My type. But I was also alert enough to pay attention to the signals, like when he told me he bench-pressed his brother into the ceiling, or knocked his little girl down because she was being rude to him. ALARM BELLS!!!  Possibly an abuser. Been there, done that. On our third date we saw a movie, he kissed me goodbye for the first time....and then I never saw him again. Obviously he was watching those alerts also. Good for him! It would have been nice if he had said "Hey, I've had fun but..." but instead he just stopped texting me with no explanation. I really hate that. Guys, do not leave a girl hanging. Have the guts to explain WHY you don't want to go out with her anymore. Anyway, I'm thankful that three date guy stopped asking me out. Could have been bad. 
     And I admit I have a habit of labeling things in my life (and I've probably always done this): Good or bad, healthy or unhealthy, black or white, wrong or right, relationship or just friends. I'm always trying to figure out where I am going or what I am doing and whether I should take a different path or if the path I am on is the correct one. It leaves one feeling very lost and confused. Welcome to my brain. Come in, sit down, feel free to make yourselves comfortable. 
     So, here is the Readers Digest condensed version of my dating history: Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriends, boyfriend, single, boyfriend, marriage, single, boyfriend, marriage, boyfriend, single...you get my point. I have no idea what I am doing. Did the rules change somewhere between the ages of 16 and 52? Or between 1989 and 2014? Has the Bachelor or the Bachelorette television shows changed the face or rules of dating or has it always been this way and I've just never had to deal with it? 
     I know the dating pool is extremely shallow over the age of thirty. I get that. But, why do I need to try on more than one pair of shoes at once? Can't I just wear one pair at a time until they don't fit right anymore? Or do I risk finding out again that the shoes I really like are trying on someone else's shoes? My choices are limited: Open heart or defensive wall. Which is better? 
     I think I need to re-read my own blog post about shoe shopping so I can get my head back to the basics. I'd hate to think that right now I might be screwing up a perfectly good pair of new shoes that I really like just because I'm trying to put a label on one more thing. 

Shoe Shopping, or What it's like to find a date in the 21st Century

   
     I've been in this dating world for about a year, and not always...okay, I admit it, hardly ever successful. I wish I could say it was, even once, successful, but I cannot. I've tried practically every dating site imaginable: Zoosk, Plenty of Fish (POF), LDS Planet, EHarmony, Match, Mormon Match, LDS Singles...I'm sure I've forgotten at least two more. I tried three of them for about three months (the length of the pricing plan), gave up for six months and then tried three more for about three months, or thirty days, whichever came first. Because I had such bad luck at even getting one date with a decent guy, I kept giving up. I've even tried Facebook pages that give the appearance of a place you can find a date. Nope. No luck. BIG talkers, whine about being single, never ask anyone out, no action, nada. So, I have a tendency to just give up. It's easier. Kind of like Shoe Shopping.
     And, OH MY GOSH there are hundreds of dating sites out there (100 Best Dating Sites) and I shudder to think of the hundreds of false profiles trolling these sites. I met several in my brief dating site career. Let me start here: For instance, EHarmony has a general plan on how you meet someone. You answer some general questions that an interested party sends you to see if you are compatible. Of course, they first choose you because of the pictures you post on your profile. It's always the cover that is looked at first, kids. So, the questions come first. There are the first round of questions, the "How often do you get angry" or "How passionate are you" (which, oddly doesn't mean in a physical sense. It's whether you are passionate, aka angry, about certain subjects), or "If you could live anywhere in the world...". Anyway, so you answer the first round of questions, send out your set of questions, and hope (if you like him/her) these questions are answered and a new round is presented to you. Once you go through the three or four rounds of get-to-know-you banter, you can move on to secure emailing online through their website. If you decide you don't really want to continue chatting with the prospective party, you just stop replying or you block them and never worry about them again. Now, here is the first clue if the one you are talking to is a real human, or just some foreign person, because it can be a guy or a girl talking to someone with the same gender, pretending they are not the same gender...unless, of course, that is what you are looking for. If said interested party passes over the get-to-know-you banter and skips straight to email, chances are quite high that he's not a real person. His profile is fictitious. And his emails always sound the same as the last fictitious person: "I saw your beautiful smile," "I've been looking for someone like you," and most importantly, "My subscription expires tomorrow. Please contact me at this email address (which doesn't match the name of the person contacting you) and I will send you more pictures". Within a day or two, if you were smart enough to not reply to this guy, you would receive an email from EHarmony telling you that said guy was not a real profile, blah blah blah. As I said, I encountered more messages like this than I did real, honest-to-goodness, interested parties. 
      Some of these sites have phone apps which, in my opinion, is the best way to go. If you have a smart phone and you have a short amount of time on your hands, you can just peruse through the dating app and do what I like to call "Shoe Shopping." You ALWAYS have your phone with you-on the bus, train, plane, cab, etc. whereas you don't always have your computer with you. Bored? Let's go shoe shopping.  I coined this term because in two of the apps, Zoosk and POF, you literally FLIP through photos of prospective datees (and yes, I mean date-ees), as though you popped into DSW, Nordstroms, Famous Footwear, or Payless, and had a few minutes to kill so you thought you'd check out their shoes. As a woman, I've had plenty of experience "Power Shopping" and we are really talking about shoes right now (just thought I'd run in for a sec and end up spending $100 in under ten minutes because I found the perfect pair, or two, of shoes), and dating apps and sites feel to me like shoe shopping. Here's why:
     When you go shoe shopping, what are you looking for? A color to match an outfit you just bought? Seasonal shoes? Boots? Heels, flats, etc? You are looking for the perfect pair of shoes for whatever you need them for. So, when looking for said shoes, what is your criteria? Comfort, style, color, etc., correct? Same with dating, really. 
     Imagine you are flipping through a dating app. (If you are a visual person, this is for you.) Picture after picture of supposedly single applicants. In POF, if you like the person, you swipe the picture to the right. If you don't, you swipe it to the left (I think I have that correct-it's been awhile). Once swiped away, a new profile picture pops into view. You can literally swipe through these pictures a second a frame. It got to be so bad, and so fast,  that I started saying in my head "Too fat, too short, too scary, bad teeth, crossed-eyes, too TOO YOUNG, OH! WHAT IS HE WEARING?" and you can do that really quickly, without really thinking about it. Beware of swiping in the wrong direction, though. If the guy was your type of shoes, and you swiped him in the wrong direction, he's gone for good. You'll never see him again. On the opposite end of the spectrum, if you swiped him in the wrong direction and you wanted him GONE, he now thinks you like him. Good luck with that. I had to explain that one once. ONCE. 
     Back to the shoe analogy. I love shoes. I really do. I have about thirty pairs (for some of you that is a lot, for some hardly any shoes at all) and I know what I like. Same with dating. I don't have thirty pairs of dates, sheez! But, I know what I like. You'd be surprised at the type of "shoes" I choose. Not flashy, sparkly, expensive, or popular shoes. Sometimes quirky, funny, funky, and unusual. The shoes have to speak to me. That initial click. That ohhhh-I-like-those click. At that point, it doesn't matter if the shoes are too short, too fat...okay, I put a giant kibosh at unhealthy fat. Then it's just shudder. I know which shoes will make me smile and which ones will make me shudder. I look for the "click" and then all I see are amazing, gorgeous, with a strong potential to be perfect, shoes. 
     So, we find a pair of shoes we like and we try them on. Sometimes just briefly enough to say either, "Yes, I like these. I'm going to keep them," or "Nope. Not my style. Too uncomfortable. I can't walk in these," and we either purchase them or move on. Sometimes we find a pair of shoes and they seem to fit perfectly at first. We wear them around for a few days or a few months, or even a few years, then decide they never really fit well in the first place (it was wishful thinking-they were sooooo cute) and we have to get rid of them. We ignored the fact that they give us blisters, or just hurt when we wore them too long. We are better off never wearing them again. Walk away from the bad shoes, kids. Just walk away.
     And do you have the old stand-by? The ones that are so comfortable that, even though they don't really fit into your wardrobe, you keep going back to them? You can always count on those shoes to always be there when you need them. They fit perfectly. It's comforting to even just see them once in awhile and put them back on again. They are safe. You forget that sometimes they give you blisters, and sometimes they hurt. So you go back to them because you need them, because for a short time, they feel good to be back on your feet. You know those shoes better than any other pair of shoes you try on. And they are always there. But, this doesn't mean that they are great shoes, and at some point those comfortable shoes might just hurt more than they were ever worth, and you'll need to get rid of them. It's hard to let them go, but sometimes it's just better if you do so they can't hurt you again. 
     If we are lucky enough, we find that perfect pair of shoes. They fit perfectly, go with everything, are so SO comfortable, and we want to wear them all of the time. They never give us blisters. They never hurt. We are at our best when we wear those shoes and can run faster, jump higher, be our nutty, goofy selves, and they never ever don't fit with what we are wearing, or being, or doing. And when we are not wearing them, we are wishing we were. It's so rare to find that perfect pair. Sometimes you have to try on a hundred pairs, or a thousand pairs (but, that's just icky if we aren't talking about actual shoes) to find the perfect pair. And we know the instant we put them on, they are perfect. And we are our happiest, most true self when we have those shoes in our life. 
     Most of all, when we are "shoe shopping," it's important to not rush. Walk around the store for awhile. Take your time. This is an important decision. Even if they are the most expensive shoes, or the least expensive, these shoes could possibly be the ones you wear for the rest of your life. No rush. Really look at the shoes. Really pay attention to how they make you feel when you wear them. Can you wear them for hours during the day, every day, and you don't get tired of wearing them? And, if the shoes don't quite fit right the first few times you wear them, don't give up. You have to take the time to break them in. Be patient. There may be a moment when it suddenly just clicks, and you have found the perfect pair of shoes. 

I am not that girl!

   
     You know the one:  Average height (generally under 5'7"), thin, large-chested, long blonde hair. The one the men of every dating age flock around. No matter her age, she is the one they are all looking for. Heck, she doesn't even have to have the big chest. If she has long blonde hair, she's the one. I don't know what it is about blondes. "Blondes have more fun"? Does that still work? Why does she have more fun? Because she's the one the men are all hovering around, like sharks around fresh meat? I've watched women like her at dances, in restaurants, even walking down the street. I could be sitting with her, walking with her, or near her and I am invisible. In fact, I'm always surprised if I'm even noticed.
     I was friends with a man and I always accused him of having a "type." He denied it but you could go through his dating history (generally posted in his Facebook photos) and there it was: Proof he had a type. He hadn't even had good experiences with these women. Or maybe he just made bad choices? I don't know but he kept going back to his type. Long blonde hair. Even when he had a new conquest and denied her hair color to me, I found her in his friend's list. Long blonde hair. Did that make me less likely to be chosen as a partner by said friend? Nah, we're not friends anymore because he chose to lie to protect himself over keeping our friendship.  Sounds to me like I got the better deal, don't you think?
     So, for years I've been asking myself, "What is wrong with me?" Horrible thing to ask yourself. Rule #1: NEVER, EVER ask a question you don't want the answer to. But I have asked that question. And I have no answer. Because there ISN'T anything wrong with me. Generally once someone gets to know me, or even shortly after meeting me, they'll discover that this girl doesn't need to be blonde or have long hair to have more fun.
     I am not blonde, although I was actually born a blonde. I've had red hair, blonde hair, brown hair, and now black hair. Why not? You change your clothes. Why not change your hair? The last time I had long hair was about 7 or 8 years ago, I think. It just kept getting shorter as I got older. If I thought I'd look good with long hair, would I grow it out? I don't think so. With my hair, I can be up and out the door in 45 minutes, including shower and teeth brushing. I can roll down the windows and open the sunroof in my car and when I reach my destination, my hair is practically perfect. Just tousle and go. Haircuts are cheaper, although generally more often. I don't need two boxes of hair color, just one. (And when I did have long hair, my hair was so crazy thick, I had to use two boxes of color. )
    What do I miss with short hair? Baseball hats. I looked a million times better wearing a baseball hat with long hair. With short hair? Meh. Not attractive at all. Do I miss anything else? Nope. Although I bet I'd get more dates if I had long hair. haha
    But, I don't want to be blonde or have long hair. Basically, if someone doesn't choose me because of my appearance, I'm pretty lucky they didn't. I like me just the way I am. I feel like my short hair matches my personality: A ton of fun contained in my average, short-haired, tall body. Besides, long hair of any color doesn't guarantee a woman with honor or integrity. That stuff has nothing to do with appearance. It's her heart and soul that make a woman beautiful.
 

 (Editor's note: I have met some really wonderful women with long blonde hair that made me change the competition opinion.)
 

God's Goggles

     I have had enough experiences in my life that damage to my self-esteem was inevitable. I didn't know that what I was hearing was someone else's opinion of me and, as I said in my previous post from a year ago, not my story. In the last year I HAVE changed my story. Sure, there are times when I slip back into my old "junk" and feel crappy, old, ugly, and fat, but recently I have begun to listen to my heart instead of the old authors of my life.
     I was driving back to Utah from Washington State last week after spending ten days at "home." (Now I currently don't feel like I have an actual home so I use that term loosely. It's the place where I grew up and where some of my family and friends live, but it is not somewhere that I feel is home anymore.)  When you are driving alone down that long, lonely, boring tour of Eastern Washington, Oregon, Idaho, and Utah, you have tons of time to think. My heart was hurting over some recent changes in my life (another blog, another time) and I was feeling very emotional. I had spent about four days out in the middle of the Olympic Peninsula camping with my brother, his wife, and one of his daughters, with nary a link to the cell phone distractions of Facebook, game apps, or emails (there was definitely a lot of reading being done). This leaves you with THINKING. Sometimes thinking can be bad. Overthinking is definitely bad. But this was the type of thinking I needed to do. I needed to cleanse my heart and my head.
     So, as I was driving I came upon a little theory in my head that I felt I needed to share with you, dear reader. The bad part about long drives alone is that when you come up with amazing things that need to be written, you cannot just start writing. You either pull off the side of the road and take a typing break, or you hold it in your head and hope you remember it when you can finally release it.  I didn't bother to take that writing break so I'm hoping right now that I remember everything that I thought of on that long, enlightening drive.
     We have a tendency to see ourselves with World Goggles. Magazines, television, commercials, movies, videos,  Facebook, etc fill our heads with stuff that tells us how we need to think, feel, breathe, eat, drive, and especially look. World Goggles. For years that was how I saw myself. I would look through my World Goggles and think I was fat, blobby, ugly, bad-skinned, short-haired, thunder-thighed, un-sexy, unappealing, unattractive, old, etc. Everything that World Goggles told me I shouldn't be but MUST be because I didn't look like the models or actresses I constantly saw before me and I wasn't being asked out on dates by the guys I thought SHOULD be asking me out.
    Then I started praying. Okay, I've prayed before but I mean I changed my prayer. I asked that I could see myself as Heavenly Father saw me. Tall order.  I know he loves me and I know he sees me as the gorgeous, heavenly being I really am, but I didn't see her. Not when I looked in the mirror. I had no reason to see other than what I saw thru my World Goggles.
    And then I saw her one day. In the mirror. I hadn't done anything differently with my hair, my makeup, or my clothes. Yes, I had lost about ten pounds but it didn't matter. I still saw her. I saw a glimpse of what Heavenly Father saw. I know it is just a glimpse but it was all that I needed. So I would see this beautiful happy being in the mirror every day and rush to take a picture. I wanted to capture that moment so everyone else could see it. And then I would look at the picture I took and think, "That's not what I saw in the mirror. That's a HORRIBLE picture. I look tired and wrinkly and TIRED," and I would delete the picture, try a few more times, delete a few more pictures, then give up. "Must be the lighting," I would say.
     Then I figured it out. It was not a lighting issue or a bad camera or my imagination. The camera cannot capture the true soul I saw in the mirror. Once in awhile I can take an awesome selfie (those are the ones I put on Facebook or Instagram - gotta save 'em when you see them!) but most of the selfies I take, I delete. This one made the cut:

     This is my true self. My soul. Happy, beautiful, confident, calm, honest, loyal, peaceful, energetic, creative, funny, loving, spunky, a little bit crazy, most the time loud, spastic, and kind. Me. The one above is my favorite picture of me because this is the woman I see in my head. Quite frequently (almost daily) she appears in my mirror. Sometimes she shows up in my camera.
     I have started seeing myself through God's Goggles.

     I do not have long hair, I am not a blonde, I do not have a large chest, I am not even particularly thin, my skin is not flawless, my teeth are not perfect, (and shoot, I bruise easily!), and I will never look like those women seen through World Goggles. Sadly, most of the men I have encountered in my life are looking for World Goggle girl. Guys,  I will never, EVER be her.
     BUT neither am I my curves, my hair, my skin, my teeth, or the car I drive. I AM ME. As I told one of my dear friends, "We are not a body with a soul. We are a soul with a body."  Now I view myself through God's Goggles and I see who I truly am. Lately I have found more pictures where I am smiling as though I know who I am.

     And, by the way, makeup does not make me beautiful. It merely enhances the beauty I already have. Remember, dear readers, even makeup cannot cover up a woman who is beautiful on the outside but ugly on the inside. Of course, the chances of me posting a picture of myself without makeup is slim to none. I was raised to never leave your house without it placed carefully on your face. Some things you cannot un-habit. BUT, if I ever see her in the mirror before I put the makeup on, I'll try and capture her in my camera and I'll definitely share her with you first.