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It’s weird how my life can look so great and glamorous from the outside and feel so glum and sterile from the inside.
On social media, I’m polished, slim, put-together, and always smiling. I only post pictures that show beauty, happiness, and fun times.
But… on the inside, the story is different.
Maybe I wear dark clothing because most of the time, that’s how my soul feels: dark.
There’s very little sunshine in my life. Not just because New Hampshire goes gray for the winter. I mean, inner sunshine.
Happiness.
Joy.
What’s wrong with me? Why don’t I feel happy?
I close my eyes, and my thoughts zoom back to my parents.
Their marriage hasn’t been going well since all of us girls moved out of the house. At first, my sisters shared the burden with me. We all tried to chip in and cheer them up, get back that warm family feeling that we used to share.
But then, my older sister, Julia, moved to Tucson to start a family. My little sister, Rosie, hopped on a plane to Australia one summer, and she’s been bouncing from continent to continent since, barely ever dropping in on Windsor.
These days, it’s just me…
Me, putting on a smile.
Doing the song and dance.
I go to my parents’ house and try to bridge the gap between them by reminding them that they’re a team.
I’m trying to be the perfect daughter.
I open my eyes and look up at the ceiling fan.
My life back in Windsor is not going well. But… I’m not in Windsor right now. I’m in Hawaii.
The clock on my nightstand shows me that I now have only twenty minutes before Jack will knock on my door.
I should really be doing that prep work for the Shopper Shark client, Chad. There’s no way Jack’s harebrained scheme about fixing Chad’s financial crisis will work. I’ll most likely have to rewrite that darn email sequence again.
But, instead of diving into research, I pluck up the cutest black dress that I packed.
I carry it to the bathroom, strip down to my skivvies, and slip it on.
As I turn side to side in the mirror and judge my reflection, I tell myself it doesn’t matter what I look like. This is a work meeting, Hazel.
That’s all.
I open my makeup bag and sort through various bottles and tubes.
A fluttery feeling stirs in my core as I carefully line my eyelids with my Sephora Shimmer Taupe pencil.
I try the mantra again.
This is a work meeting. This is a work meeting. That’s all.
It doesn’t matter what I look like.
Jack can sling more compliments at me if he wants, but this time around, his charm won’t affect me. I won’t swoon.
