8 - This is My Friend, Grace.
I lie to myself a lot. I like to think that I’m confident, powerful, sexy, and smart, but the truth is, most of the time, I don’t feel that way. Sometimes, I let the bad things dig a hole that’s too deep and too tall to climb out of. Sometimes, I stay in the hole for too long and rot there.
That was until I met Grace. She let my imperfections seep through into reality. She tells me that it’s okay to fail. She reminds me when to step back and breathe.
Grace is like soft pillows and cotton candy before it gets sticky, clings to your hands, and gives you a headache. Grace is white linen pajamas and vanilla-scented candles from Trader Joe's. Grace is mint tea with honey and a splash of milk at the end of a long day. Grace is a good book, a romance that sweeps you off your feet and into another world where you can escape.
Grace likes to use lotion every night before bed. She has a routine that her friends make fun of her for, but she enjoys it, so she doesn’t care. She lights a candle and lathers her legs, making sure to get every spot of skin. She smiles while she does this. She plays an Autumn mix on Spotify and lathers and grins because she enjoys life and is allowed to. She takes her time because she can because there is no rush. There is just now.
Grace has naturally wavy hair that smells like cinnamon and flows in shades of honey and chestnut. Her eyes are a deep but inviting blue. She radiates calm and confidence, a combination no one thought possible until they laid their eyes on her. She wears a soft smile, an invitation. She loves talking to people, especially the ladies at the grocery store who always bag her groceries well and with such care. They’re kind to her.
Her clothes fit but don’t restrict her. She seems to move with the wind, swaying to the rhythm of the earth's pulse. She wears tones that complement her skin and delicate jewelry that doesn’t overpower her energy. Everything about her is delicate but stable. She is balanced. She is rooted into the earth, almost the dirt, flowers, and leaves themselves.
She enjoys nourishing her body. She eats greens and reds and oranges, with occasional candies because she has an incurable sweet tooth, but then again, don’t we all? She enjoys what life has to offer, even the little evils we’re told to avoid.
She is beauty. Her name is Grace, and she has always been that way. She was born with that little gleam in her eye, that serenity I search for. She’s always had it. So, I love to call her my friend, and I am lucky to have her in my life.
We used to be very close when I was younger. We met when I was ten when I fell at the playground. She helped me off the cold, hard pavement. She walked me to the nurse, held my hand, made me smile, and told me it was okay.
We had a falling out from middle school through the start of college. I hate that we did, but life happens. I reached out to her last year when I was getting too tough with myself and needed her warmth, her familiar comfort. She welcomed me with open arms.
Now, we’re closer than ever. She keeps me calm and grounded when I need a moment of peace. She holds my hand and walks me through the bad times, reminding me to take life one day at a time. She tells me to give myself some of her on the days I feel my knees buckle. So I do. I give myself Grace.
