Stepping Out

Is that really me?

I smile at my friend in the mirror and give a little shrug.

“I don’t look half bad.”

She scoffs. “You look amazing!”

I’m the sepia dental hygienist. Susan is the bright and beautiful one. She has fab, blonde hair, a super cute face, and her scrubs are always pretty colors, mostly pink. And her makeup? You’d think she was always about to go on a date instead of spending the day cleaning little kids’ teeth.

Although, when I think of it, she usually is about to go out. I’m really lucky that she agreed to spend part of her Saturday helping me prepare for a date.

She hands me a round, makeup mirror.

“Look at your hair! It’s gorgeous! We did gooood!”

Gorgeous is a huge exaggeration. But she did something…

No, Amy. She taught you – taught you – how to tame the frizzies.

The smooth, lustrous, reddish-brown curtain falling just past my shoulders doesn’t even look like my hair. Turning back around, I stare at my reflection. It would never have occurred to me to part my hair on the side instead of in the middle.

And makeup! I refused foundation. Can’t stand the stuff. Susan accepted my stubbornness only in trade for some serious eye makeup.

She’s staring at me, too. “i love the sweater. Don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Honestly? The soft, sage green sweater looks and feels great. And the dark stretch jeans that she also made me buy are flattering and reasonably comfortable.  

And ankle boots, not too high…

Winter clothes, all on sale, just in time. We both raked up. It was fun.

I want to hug Susan, to thank her. But I can’t look away just yet. It’s still sinking in.

I actually like what I see.

And I’m wearing feather earrings. Feathers!

​Who are you, Amy Munro?