Swamp Donkey

Women. I can and will only speak for myself. A couple topics came up recently with my Huck that involved a short and quick, though funny, conversation about why women wear makeup. The first event involved why I was all made up for a "date night" which, to me, is just a standard title for spending time with your forever-after love once a week. Of course, I use this phrase loosely since there really isn't a term or phrase or title to describe what Huck and I have. We just...are. There isn't a title that can describe the love we share. We love each other with great depth and need. And desire. Not that kind of desire though that happens too but the kind of need and desire you have for the one person in your life you want to share each and every moment with, share each and every thought with, and share each and every everything with. And Sugar, I only use titles because I don't have other words to describe what we have and what we are.  Stop checking your pulse. But I enjoyed your reaction to an obvious dislike for my choice of words and I love you still :)

It has been my past experience when a man comments on something you do, wear, or change isn't always a compliment. On the contrary. The comment is usually his polite way of saying, "um yeah I'm not digging it." So date night. I love eye shadow. I love to wear eye shadow. I have brown eyes. How effing boring is that? So on occasion I wear my eye makeup to be sultry, inviting, sexy. Maybe this is a bit off but the smokey bedroom eye has caught many eyes. In the past. So on date night I decided to make my eyes up. I figured poor Huck was in need of a change. He couldn't be content to see me all natural and plain all the time. I changed things up and did the half smokey, half bedroom eyes thing. I thought I did a decent job. After all, I was once a professional make up artist for Estee Lauder. Then I hear, "Your eyes look different." LOL! I guess my effort was more for me. Its true. We do wear make up for ourselves mostly. Oh well. 

Then there is this day that is particularly warm and all the time I spent on making myself up was wasted. I was perspiring. Ok, I was sweating. Beads of sweat proceeded to pop up on my forehead, brow, nose, and upper lip. The light dusting of expensive powder was melting. I would touch my face and a milky makeup residue appeared on my hand or fingers. While I was disgusted with the wasted attempt at being presentable I comment audibly, more to myself, why did I bother? Huck had an instant opinion which was pretty spot on. Women wear makeup for other women. Yeah. I agree. We want other women to recognize our beauty. I'm not afraid to say it. My take? I must expand. I wear make up for other women, yes. But not why you think. I wear makeup and dress nicely (usually) as a reflection of my man. I want other women to look at my Huck and see a gorgeous, well kept woman on his arm. I don't want them to see a handsome, successful man with a swamp donkey.