Smells
When I was taking my shower this morning, I started to ponder my fascination with scents both vanilla and citrus. For the first 21 years of my life, I wore vanilla and vanilla only. It drove the boys crazy in advanced individual training (AIT) training (oh, yes, even then) when I was starting off my Army National Guard career. It inspired the sergeants to refer to me as "The Stripper" when I worked security for the Guard. I promise, I didn't actually do any stripping. Well, at least, not for the men all at once. I may or may not have dated one of them, and in that case, there may or may not have been some stripping.
I'm not saying.
Moving right along, when I was pregnant with my daughter, I all of a sudden became obsessed with all scents citrus. Our handsoap was citrus, my shampoo and conditioner were citrus, my lotion became citrus, and I bought up all the citrus candles in the marketplace. I probably should have owned citrus stock.
After she was born, I maintained my obsession with citrus, but part of my heart felt like I was cheating on vanilla. Now I maintain between the two. This is interesting (really, it is) enough, but in the shower this morning I started pondering why I don't wear my full bottle of Lucky perfume that is sitting on my bathroom cabinet shelf. Why? It smells good. I like it. It makes me feel nice.
Then it hit me. I feel like perfume is what "women" wear. I have two children, I spent six years serving my country in the National Guard, and I'm nearly finished with my first BS (I was a late education-goer). I'll be 24 in eleven days. (I heard that's Superbowl Sunday. How exciting.) I'm not a woman. I'm a little girl. Perhaps a teenager. And what do we wear? Victoria's Secret lotion. Not perfume.
Perfume is for women who are self-confident and gainfully employed, but I still feel like a little girl inside.
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