Everything feels more intense. My skin responds to every breeze, every brush of an insect wing or blade of grass, every flutter of my dress.
I am more than alive, I am life. The often overwhelming disagreement inside my head silenced.
The simple act of slipping on a dress which means so little to most is an act of exuberance to her. Like unlocking handcuffs that have been worn for a lifetime.
In that dress, she is freedom and flight, grace and mercy, beauty in a form that is so bright, it is almost blinding.
A simple dress settles the distress of forty years held captive in ill-fitting trousers meant to subdue and yet inflate. There is supposed to be power inside those two legged garments.
But in this dress, I feel more powerful than ever before. She is being true to herself. Finally. Permanently.
I am her. She is me. We both have a secret.
It lies within that dress.
MelDouleur.com 
This is soo beautiful that it made me cry. i have not worn a dress in such a long time though i am on the cusp of wearing dresses quite a lot in the near future that is when i am not going to be wearing skirts,skorts or culottes but whenever i wore dresses my heart felt like you expressed…………..this is such a beautiful post. Only one problem is that it has really awakened my feelings of dysphoria, the near panic, the feeling of urgency. Thank you. i want to read everything you write.
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I love this girl. I’m glad to see you write
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I thought you might like this one. I had a conversation today that sparked the inspiration bulb. A dress is a very powerful thing. Thank you Cinny! I actually have been writing, close for four pages a day. It just won’t translate to the blog until I do something very real with it. Something I’m not sure I’m brave enough for yet. ❤ you!!!
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❤️💋
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Reblogged this on Pushing our limits.
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It’s a wonderful piece. Genuine insight and humanity here, Mel.
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Wonderful!!
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