Saying Goodbye, Shedding More Than Body Fat

I have been a subscriber and loyal reader of Matha Stewart Living Magazine ever since I first walked through the doors of her ex-husband's publishing company in 1998 to be his office manager. Every month that glossy goodness would appear and just put a big ole smile on my face. I would open the pages and dream of the huge kitchen I would one day own, full of blue and white porcelain plates and and island in the middle with a marble countertop. There would be fiestaware decorating the walls and a window overlooking a grotto the likes of which would make Hef envious. I would make yummy cakes and homemade smoothies for my kid and her friends, and when my girls came over we'd have martinis while sitting around gossiping about our fabulous and exciting lives.

My kitchen and grotto and Martini Mondays (as I'd called them in my head) are still a ways off, but what has remained a constant is that glossy goodness every month.

Today, I did the unthinkable- I threw out eight years worth of dreams and fantasies...the issue that talked about the blue and white porcelain, the one that told me how to make the perfect Turkey, the one that suggested I make a boring picture frame funner by trimming it with beans...they're all stacked and wrapped and ready for the Dept. of Sanitation's guillotine on Thursday morning. While this may seem long overdue to many, I feel the need to explain why this is so hard for me.

On Thursday, when these magazines cease to be in my life, out with them goes a huge part of me. When I was feeling down I could pick up April 2002's issue, the one with the adorable egg cups on the cover, and imagine being excited about Easter, and having my kids be excited about it, too. Or March 2001's Gardening Issue that made me wish I cared about gardening and hadn't given up on trying to save the planet in 1996. Or my very first MSL, the October 1998 Halloween Issue that ispired me to dress as a farmer and take my daughter trick-or-treating, even though I hate trick-or-treating, but I was glad I did because we had fun and got sick off tons of candy afterwards.

It's hard to start fresh, especially at my age, but I've been doing a lot of that lately: the divorce, living on my own, new jobs, new degree, new friends, new emotions, new debt- all part of the brand new, starting-over-yet-again me. Any minute now I'm hoping to feel fearless and vulnerable and invigorated all at once.

Any minute now...

*smooches*
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this is me without my hair
welcome to my open stare
i've got nothing to hide no more
why disguise what isn't there