A post that was written on December 4th, 2017 but I forgot to publish:

Being a debutante is a weird and beautiful experience.

A photo from our ball this past weekend, January 15th, 2018, more on that to come later though.

I went into deb hoping to meet a few nice people that I’d maybe stay friends with, get to wear a fancy white dress and go to a few events. Little did I know I’d get almost a sorority of some sorts. A group of girls from completely different backgrounds, quirks, and differences but we all share the same love: dance parties. We all have spent hours together but it took blasting Bruno Mars and Christmas music to reveal our true nerdy selves. I’d become incredibly close with a few girls but then, you put a bunch of giggly girls with a unique bond in a room after practicing for 2 and a half hours, and you’ve got a recipe for never-ending laughs.
So why in the world am I writing about a bunch of girls who all mastered “sassy walks” and laughing?

Because in a season of learning how to find the joy again in being alone, I am so thankful for this community of girls. And, for the first time in a long time, I laughed non stop for two hours. And not just the “ha ha ha” kind of laugh but the kind of deep soul filling belly ache that leaves you questioning why you don’t have abs yet. The kind of laughter that echoes down hallways as you run (and trip) in your dance heels.

Do you remember making cards for people in first and second grade? How would you cover construction paper with glue and shove glitter on it hoping it sticks?  And if you shoved enough glue and glitter you couldn’t even tell it was a globby mess? No matter what glitter you had to shake off to get to that point, it still looks the best, at least to you. It is your very own unique masterpiece in its sparkly glory, refrigerator worthy. These moments are the glitter that sticks onto the card, the moments I cherish and hold on to.

There are these moments of joy that leave you standing in awe of where you are. I am confidently and joyously laughing. It feels good to type that.

And in this season I’m learning how to dance like no one is watching. I always used to be the girl who didn’t care who was in the room but was completely and unashamedly alive. And then 2017 hit. Now, I have no shame in shimmying alongside my best friend Lilli, not caring who was watching while waiting in the wings for a dance. Twirling with Victoria. Laughing in the middle of a dance circle with Laura.

I’m savoring these moments, filled with joy.

Because, for a time, and that time was really long, whether it was the fear of rejection or anxiety or failure, I often drove home from anything “on edge” and snippy (cough most of 2017 cough cough.) But last night I drove home blasting “End Game” by Taylor Swift not singing the lyrics to anyone else but myself, a permanent grin plastered on my face. Then, returned home to a group text with inside jokes and twelve new close friends. 

xo

Mags