Baby Got Back

So it's back.


My mojo.


Or if not back, its peeking at me tepidly from around a corner.


Except by mojo I don't mean the lusty Meghan who trots around hornier than a nun at a dildo factory. Or even the Meghan that eyeballs public places as potential mating sites, but just a general zsa zsa zu is back. My joy de vie, the swagger in my step, the sideways smile that says more than words, its all starting to come back to me.


And the funny thing, nothing I thought would bring it back, brought it back.


Not the trip to Cuba even though the white washed beaches and heavy handed mojitos made it the perfect scenery to find one's mojo. And not my spiffy new haircut complete with bangs for the first time since 1992. It wasn't my newfound love for red lipstick and the fact that I suddenly seem to not only LIKE the colour yellow, I can't get enough of it. It hasn't been any clothes purchased or shoe stepped in, and although my new twice weekly meeting with the tanning booths are making my skin a lesser shade of pale, it's not really that either. The yoga classes and daily sit ups have meet slowly shaping my physique to that of a less skinny, more toned woman and I do have to say I like it, but that's not quite it either. A progressive date this week with undertones of flirting was lovely, but did not make or break my new found mojo.


The truth of the matter is that none of these things and all of these things have done it all at the same time. It's just finding that general sense of comfort with who I am that had been lost ever since the break up, as well as really *gasp* opening my eyes up to things around me.


It sounds so simple, but in the day to day life I get very trapped in the comforts provided by routine. And slowly that starts to spread into routine of diet, clothes, physique and life choices. It's as simple as questioning the fact of how redheads are not supposed to wear yellow or red and deciding for myself to do both, at the same time. It's not talking about how I'd like to exercise but making the choice to do so. It's deciding that whether or not my date progresses into a second or third, I'm alright with the outcome either way.


It's realizing how little I really know and how much is based on the hole I have boxed perception in. I'm finding in my later twenties that my preconceived notions can often be the reason I feel stagnant in the first place. I have experienced a lot of life for my age, but that is not to say I can't go forward and learn and experience a million more. Something as simple as my new years challenge has opened the door for this new experience, and with it is suddenly a rush of excitement that makes my senses feel alive again.


That, in essense, is my mojo.


Feeling comfortable with who I am all the while feeling open and excited for what I am learning, and what I can do. It's about looking at dating as a fun adventure, not a chore and that mojo is not about sex it's about feeling comfortable in your own skin which then equates to sexiness. It's not glossed lips and painted fingernails, designer labels and stilettos. *


It's all me baby, and I'm back!



*That's not to say that bangs, red lipstick and a new outfit hurt either ;) And thought I'd post a pic to show off my spiffy new bangs.