love & pink sweatpants

a couple weeks ago,

i bought pink sweatpants.

---

it was monday.

i was sitting at work, thinking about my old blue flannel pajama pants that had just ripped that morning.  i tripped on the bottom and they tore...all the way up the side.  it was time, after all.  i can honestly say that i have no idea how long i’ve had those pants, except that i’m pretty sure they’ve been around since junior high.  they were old and worn, but they were comfortable and i clearly held onto them to the death.

so now it was time for new ones.

and i never buy myself pajamas.  the only time i get anything to wear to bed is at Christmas time when someone throws a pair of boxers in a bag.  and i love my boxers, boy, do i.

but the truth is, boxers can only go so far.  i fall asleep comfortable,

but never feeling feminine.

and this particular Monday, i decided that needed to change.

so my first stop after work,

was of course,

Victoria’s Secret.

i browsed through alllll the sweatpants.

i was hoping for maybe some black ones with gold writing

or a deep purple.

but then i saw them.

with cheetah print &

“LOVE PINK” written on the side...

and they were

bright. pink.

now for some of you, that may not be that big of a deal,

but i can honestly say that i don’t think i have ever purchased one pink item of clothing in my life.  i am not that girl.  never have been.  that is crossing a fine line between being feminine and annoyingly girly.

so i walked away.  i circled all the pants once again.  determined to find something, anything else that was not pink.

but i kept seeing them out of the corner of my eye.  hugging the hips of the mannequin.  and they looked darling.  and so comfortable.  and extremely girly.

gah, i had to do it.  i had to have those pants.  i wanted them so bad.

so before i could think twice, i ran back, pulled them off the shelf and bought them.  spent way too much money on pants that no one else would probably ever see.

and i wanted to wear them as soon as possible.  so i did.  as soon as i got home, i slid out of my jeans and threw them on. 

and they were adorable.  comfortable.  curve-hugging in all the right places.

i took a picture and sent it to my boyfriend. {nothing scandalous, no worries :) i’m also not THAT girl either.}

his response?: “wow, baby, look at you, going all pink.  you’re getting more and more girly.  i love it.  you make me so happy.”

his response lit me up inside and i smiled as i did a little happy dance in those pink pants.  i was content.







a couple days later, i sat at work and thought of the pants.

and this deeply innate, overwhelming feeling washed over me.

i felt...

feminine.

it was not a spoken word

or the outfit i was wearing.

just a deep, pure embrace

of everything i am

and all the desires in my heart.

and as embarrassing as it may sound.

i began to cry.

you see, those pants to me

are more than just pants.

before this point in my life, it was a rare moment that i felt safe being a woman.  i always wanted to be beautiful as a woman, loved as a woman.  but i also wanted to be strong.  untouchable.  like the heroine in some movies who would never cry and could level some men to the ground with her words {or if not that, a swift punch to the face}.  and while i have never leveled anyone to the ground, i was, as my stepdad liked to call me, "Stands with Fists."

no one would hurt me.

at least,

not that they could see.

i had been this way my whole life.  my heart had been beat up from the inside out, the walls torn down again and again.  the problem was that i couldn't, i wouldn't, let anyone know that i hurt.  i refused to be that woman.  i refused to be {what i saw as} weak.

i just built my walls back up time after time, always thicker and stronger than before.

but around this time a year ago, that changed.  i sat in the living room with my mom and stepdad where we fought about money issues which turned into family issues, which then turned into...heart issues.

and tears came.  walls began to crumble.

i shrank down in the chair across from them and sobbed that i wasn't enough for them.  which turned into sobs about all the people in my life, men especially, that had hurt me and left me.  i could trust no one.

and i will never forget that moment. i was weak and exposed and i knew it.  immediately, i feared for the safety of my heart.

but then, my stepdad came over to me and kneeled at the base of the chair i was sitting in.  he grabbed onto both of my bare feet with each of his hands.

and then he began to pray.

he prayed over my past.  over the men that had hurt me.

he prayed that God would break down the walls that i had put up.

he prayed for the femininity he could see inside me,

past all the wounds, all the scars.

he prayed that i would let go.

and the craziest thing happened.

God released me

and i did just that.

i let go.

and i didn't feel weak or unprotected or exposed.

instead, i felt pure.  i felt joy.  i felt a strength that was not forced, but was found in who i was.  that is, a woman.

it was probably one of the most powerful moments of my entire life.

and only a few short weeks later, i started dating a man who, not only saw all the femininity i held, but who wanted to protect it.  and more than that, cherish it.

i've never had that before.

turns out that i had been giving my feminine heart to the wrong people.  if only i had known sooner...

but i didn't and that's why i'm here.

telling you a story that is deeply personal to me.

telling you about my adventure into pink sweatpants.

and now when someone tells me, i'm "so girly,"

i take it as a compliment,

rather than an insult,

as i often did before. :)

it's not always easy--sometimes it's really hard--but i know that it's good.

and the reason i know that?  because i feel it--the organic feeling of pure femininity that is mine and no one else's.  i feel it in the moments i let everything down and admit i don't have it all together--because that is when i can pull strength from others.  i feel it because in those weak, "girly" moments, i see the masculinity in my boyfriend's eyes when he knows that he is necessary--that he can come through and offer strength that i don't possess on my own.

i have learned to embrace it all.  now, i don't hold back my tears when watching homeward bound.  i'm not embarrassed to ask ethan for help getting something on the top shelf, to kill gross bugs {no matter how tiny}, or to help me carry in my 101 bags of {extremely heavy} groceries.

those things {along with my pink sweatpants :)} define and compliment my femininity.  and i stinkin love them.  

so no matter how terrifying it may be at moments,

i am learning to trust.

to embrace the heart that God gave me.

i will wear my pink sweatpants

 

and i will wear them for all they're worth.

{source}