For years, I wore clothes that were meant to minimize.
Darker colors.
Looser fits.
The specific aesthetic of someone who is trying to take up less space.
The black dress was not that.
The black dress was the dress of someone who had decided they were not going to apologize for taking up space anymore.
It fit well.
It was appropriate for the occasion.
It was the dress of a person who owned a business and was doing something she had earned.
I wore my
hair down.
The red hair, which had been the subject of jokes in the hallway, which I had spent years trying to tone down in various ways, which I had made peace with completely in my early thirties.
It was very red.
I wore it down.
Alison met me in the hotel lobby.
She was in a deep green dress that she wore with the ease of someone who has spent thirty-eight years becoming comfortable in her body.
