finding your inner tutu


i grew up a tomboy.  i had short hair and my name was leigh.  people weren’t sure at times if i was a boy or a girl.  i wore toughskins jeans and plain white t-shirts.  my mom was / is mentally ill and popped pills.  she was locked behind her bedroom door while i grew up.

i created a tough ass little kid persona; i didn’t need anyone, i could take care of myself, and i would kick the ass of any boy or girl that gave me, my sister, or any of my friends shit.

i stopped fighting before i graduated from elementary school, but i didn’t shed my tough as nails persona until i met my sweet husband.

when i met dave on an airplane, i knew he was the one.  once i had that figured out i was screwed because i didn’t know what to do with him.  i was used to meeting guys at bars and having a make out, but not getting in a real relationship.  very quickly i knew i was in over my head and went to a therapist to get to the bottom of what was going on.

after about 2 years of hard work on the couch, i figured it out.  the tough as nails persona was gone and the real “i love to cry” leigh was out.

i felt like a new person.  i looked at myself, life, my husband, just about everything with clear eyes.

dave and i got married and we had a couple of kids charlie and margot…then a couple more kids sargent and audrey then….eve.

when margot was about 4 years old she came home from a play date with a flyer that said ‘join our fairy princess treasure hunt!  mothers and daughters put on your tutus and roam the magical forest for hidden tresasure!’  margot was so excited and i was game to take her.  i went into her cardborad treasure chest dress up bin i bought at costco for her birthday and pulled out a white sparkly tutu and a tattered pink one that had gotten a bit more play.

margot picked the white sparkly one and i picked up the pink tutu and headed to my bedroom to get ready.

i pulled the pink tattered tutu up over my jeans and threw on my flip flops.  it was about time to go, but i ran to my full length mirror really quick to have a peek to see if i put it on right.  i stopped.  just stopped everything.  i stared at myself.  i stared at myself for a few minutes while tears dripped down my cheeks.  i couldn’t believe how beautiful it was.  i couldn’t believe how beautiful i felt in it.  i couldn’t believe at 40 years old i was experiencing this feeling for the first time.  i felt like a princess.  it felt magical.  oh, the tattered pink tutu.

margot and i had the most glorious day that day.  we held hands and ran through the forest, not even caring what we were looking for.  i felt young and happy and free.  i wore that tutu for the rest of the day until bed time.  when i took it off, it didn’t go back in the cardboard costume box, it went in my closet.  i wore it to my kids school to set up for events, i wore it to go out with my friends,  and i eventually sewed the tattered thing to a tank top (tanktutu) and wore it on the oprah winfrey show.

i am not sure if i cried the first time i put it on because i had never felt like a beautiful little girl and i was allowing myself to feel that at 40?

i don’t know exactly why, but what i do know is that it brought me joy.  i have decided i want a lot of that in my life.

so, if you see me in a tutu from time to time, i am not trying to be cute or outrageous…i am just sprinkling a little extra joy into my day.

huge hugs, thank you for reading, and may you find your inner tutu!



One comment on “finding your inner tutu”

  1. Leigh on said:

    thank you stacy!!!!!!
    miss you and must hang soon!

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