Take your juicy back!
Don’t let anyone box your juicy goodness away! Especially entitled young men who tell you how you ought to dress to impress on a date. When I was in my early 30s, I was part of a tight-knit friend group, and we would get together once a week for “dinner club.” The point was to try out different restaurants in the city each week. We were a bunch of young professionals just getting our footing in our 30s.
There was one brash guy in the group who would blurt these stupid things out. These bizarre rules he would impose on us as if they were facts. One thing he’d often impose was his belief that a guy had to spend three months’ salary on an engagement ring if he had any hope of being taken seriously. (My engagement ring, by the way, was a modern and simple stainless steel ring with a single diamond inset into it and came in at maybe half a month’s salary - well, my marriage did fail, but I’m quite certain it had nothing to do with the ring.)
The other ridiculous thing he’d preach is that if a woman wanted to be taken seriously on a date, they need to wear sexy, fancy undergarments. AND, not only that, it was imperative that these fancy undergarments matched. He loved to stress the matching part. And how he’d outright reject a woman if she failed to meet up to this. What was even more interesting was how the women at the table didn’t say a peep in response to him basically dictating what underwear we ought to wear to stay in the good graces of men even though I was inwardly cringing and thinking, number one that’s bullshit, and number two, get your eyes out of my pants!
One thing that’s become clear to me is that tapping into our juicy has a lot to do with restoring a sense of self that we became estranged with when someone else tried to box us in. I’ve thought of Ike’s stupid underwear edict in the last few months as I’ve been dating again. And I say something to myself like - no thank you, Ike, I’m gonna wear what makes me feel comfortable. These days, it’s brightly coloured, cotton mix, mid-rise, boy cut briefs from Amazon. Paired with a mismatched seamless and supportive bra from Knix. And every time I put them on, I take a moment to pause and look at myself in the mirror, with great satisfaction - for choosing what makes me feel most sexy and comfortable. And if a guy wants to run cause my undies weren’t fancy or matching enough, then good riddens. So far, that hasn’t happened. What has happened, however, is that I’ve found myself more confident and juicy in the dating department than ever before.
This juicy research project has me reflecting on the many people in my life who have, along the way, imposed their own limitations on me. On the ways I must present myself in the world in order to be attractive, to be safe, to be accepted, and to be successful. And how, despite having a strong and rebellious nature, other parts of me took these things in and adopted these voices as my own. Becoming the voice of my own inner oppression.
Girl, go for comfort! Don’t let anyone box your juicy in! (The date was a great success, as you can see. And I promise you there was nothing fancy or matching going on under that shirt (or emoticon)!)
Today I arrive to meet you wearing comfortable and mismatched undergarments, to ask you, who tried to box your juicy in? Was it a teacher? A parent? An ex-boyfriend? A boss? Or was it an ill-informed, entitled friend like Ike? And I want to say to you this: you are safe now. You no longer need to listen to bozos like Ike. As they were dead wrong. You no longer need to listen to the voice inside you that plays that tape of their voice over and over again either. You can hit the stop button. You can pull that cassette tape out of the boom box. You can take hold of that oppressive ribbon and yank it out of the casing. You can take your juicy back.
That’s my juicy offer for you today. Take your juicy back. It’s yours, it’s your birthright, and it’s spectacular! Wear it well!