It finally happened!

It was in the ice cream aisle at the grocery store. My very own first scene of the next rom-com Lifetime blockbuster 🤣 Last week I went to the grocery store to buy a few things because we had nothing. We had just gotten back from our trip, exhausted but, lo bailado nadie nos lo quita!!! 💃🏽 No one can take away the fun we had.

So I was in my I-don’t-care-who-I-encounter chic outfit: yoga leggings, hair in a bun, no makeup, glasses, no shower, and I don’t even remember if I had brushed my teeth. Yes, that still happens to me.

I was in my zone, deciding whether I was going to bring home a frozen treat for the kids or not. I noticed people walking by, but I wasn’t making eye contact. I decided not to get anything, closed the freezer door, turned around with my cart, and started on my way when suddenly I hear:

“Excuse me! Excuse me!” Me? I thought. “Um… yes?” “Where are you from?”  It was a rather cute young man talking to me in the frozen aisle of the grocery store.

“Where am I from?” I repeated, like I didn’t really hear what he said. But mostly, I was super startled, confused, and rather lethargic. My brain was operating at low speed. “Mexico and Colombia…” I responded, with a question mark on my face.

“You are beautiful. You caught my eye,” he said. “So, are you single, divorced…?”

It took me a second to register what was happening. OHHH!!!  “Thank you so much, but I am waaay too old for you. I am flattered though!” “Really?” he said. We exchanged the How old are you’s and How old do you think I am’s. He was 30. And he thought I was between 40 and 50. Still deciding how I feel about that. LOL.“See? I am too old for you, but thanks again. I am really flattered.”

Clearly, to this love-care-attention-and-affection-deprived girl, 🙋🏻‍♀️ that encounter occupied the rest of my afternoon. NOW my brain was awake and overactive. Did he really mean it? I mean, I believe in natural beauty, buuuut… Was he looking for a sugar mama? Though nothing in my presentation would’ve screamed, I am so wealthy and looking for a young lover! OR… Was he just boldly casting a wide net to see who he could c atch??? Then I thought: Girl!!! He was cute and 30. Maybe you could have explored??? I then imagined I could’ve ended up in a How Stella Got Her Groove Back kinda situationship. Missed connection? Maybe 🤷🏻‍♀️ . I wasn’t in that mode.

Trust me, if he looked anything like Josh Duhamel, -yes, I just finished the second season of whatever show he’s on with Minka Kelly. Oh! Ransom Canyon. I just looked it up- I wouldn’t have cared about any intentions and would have just gone for it. Or maybe not. Sometimes I think I’m ready, and then I realize… not really.

Not ready to “sell” myself. Not ready to prove that I know who I am and what I have to offer in a relationship. Not ready to have to “prove” my value.

Truth is… For the past year, I have spent a lot of my personal energy trying not to be at war with my body, but to nurture it back to life after everything it has been through.

Let’s start from the top.

It’s a hairy situation

I’d say 80–90% of my hair fell out due to the severe stress of a terminal diagnosis, caring for the love of my life while caring for our kids, keeping the house, and trying to keep our life feeling somewhat normal for three years. After he died, all of that worsened to about 1,000 degrees. Our Monday blogger Emily talked about a similar hair experience recently in one of her posts.

Well, after waiting what felt like an eternity to get a dermatologist appointment, I finally went last week and was diagnosed with Telogen Effluvium, a common, temporary form of hair loss characterized by excessive daily shedding, generalized scalp thinning, and hair falling out easily. It is triggered when a major physical or emotional shock pushes a large number of hair follicles into a resting and shedding phase all at once, according to the Cleveland Clinic.

No surprise here. The good news is that, according to my new dermatologist, the hair loss is not permanent. We are just going to help those lazy, traumatized, scared little hair follicles out of hiding and hibernation, while stopping those hair follicles that are trying to get out of DOGE, hoping to escape their reality…  Or maybe that’s me. 😂

Let’s talk about body image, shall we?

The rollercoaster of caregiving and barely eating, the I-can’t-eat-anything-after-the-most-traumatic-event-of-your-life phase, followed by the rebound of fuck it, we’re all gonna die anyway, AND perimenopause, has not been great for me. I have always been active and really strive for a healthy weight that makes me feel good.

Let’s be honest. This curvy Latina will probably never get to her “ideal weight” for her age and height, according to the American Association of Blah, Blah, Blah.

I mean… I could. But I think I’d be really unhappy getting there and staying there. I can, however, get to what works for me. And that is what I’m trying to find now. I fuel, honor, and respect my body for everything it has gotten me through.  But if I can be brutally honest here…

This body is NOT READY to be naked in front of anybody who is not my gynecologist. 🤣

It’s more mental, I know. I’m working on that, too.

And then there is my skin.

For the last five or six years, it just wasn’t a priority. At all. Now I stand in front of the mirror and see the battle scars. And then I quickly try to change the recording in my head. Instead of seeing everything that is “wrong” with me, I try to recognize what the girl looking back at me in the mirror has endured.

You look pretty good to me, baby girl. You are a badass. Only you know what you’ve survived.

This is more of a rant.

More of me saying how much I wish I could even think about going on a date without worrying about whether they’ll notice my thinning hair, my extra pounds, or my weathered skin.

I have changed. How could I not? There is noway I could have come out of this massive earthquake of a loss unscathed. The aftershocks are still being felt. But maybe the woman standing in that grocery store aisle, in yoga pants, with her hair in a bun, no makeup, glasses, possibly unbrushed teeth, and absolutely no intention of meeting anyone will one day fully accept that she is even more beautiful for it. Mostly on the inside 😊.

That her soul has a strength she never wanted or asked for. That her heart has a capacity to love that she never wanted to explore. That her body is still capable of feeling, even through the battle scars.

And maybe, someday soon, she’ll believe it.

All because of a two-minute encounter with a 30-year-old in the frozen aisle of the grocery store.

Talk about a rabbit hole. Geez! 😂

Hasta la próxima! Until next time  Peace.