We Deserve Pretty Things

I bought a luxurious silk robe that hugs my body like a sheath of heaven and it makes me feel like a queen. It still sits inside my drawer, wrapped in a white tissue, folded neatly inside its original box. I’m saving it.

I also have pretty plates, the hard-to-find Lady Carlyle pattern from the Royal Albert family. They all sit together inside my white cabinet. Sitting like princesses waiting for their princes. I’m waiting for a special occasion.

Yup. I am you. I am every woman waiting for a special occasion. Or a sign. Or for the day we become so rich we will have more of these.

Then something happened. Somebody I know got sick and for a while there, we thought that was it. Then it wasn’t. And then it happened. I realized that life is wickedly fickle and it can change in an instant.

So I’ll live my life enjoying my pretty things. Silk lingerie. Bone china. Staycations. Sleeping in. Good coffee. I will spend on me. And I will luxuriate in every pretty thing I bought.

Because I know now what I didn’t know then. I matter.

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