Tag: Modesty

Member Post

 

Okay, I admit it. My husband and I had been watching the show “Dancing with the Stars” for years. Gradually, I became more and more uncomfortable with the skimpy women’s costumes, and even the bare-chested men didn’t draw me back. But the show is now so decadent and repulsive that I’ve watched it for the […]

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The T-shirt

 

“A woman does not have to be modest in order to be respected.”

This is a quote from a T-shirt worn by an otherwise scantily clad female model in a magazine.

Member Post

 

Since Mom went Home to be with Jesus, there have been a few well-intentioned people tell me that I need to start dating; put myself out there and find someone. Every time I field the comment, my eyes roll so far back in my head I can see the inside of my empty skull. “Not […]

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Summer’s Bustin’ Out All Over

 

Ah, the first day of summer. And, if you’re a larger-busted woman, the first day of a season not really designed with you in mind. Even if you’re not big-busted, just older, or physically odd in some way, finding attractive but modest summer clothing whose modesty doesn’t draw too much attention to itself can be tough.

High-riding bands and pit-cleavage.

Music, Milo, and Pin-Ups of the Heart

 

Conservatives are not exhibitionists. But real Americans value real-life experience. Which means, if you write, putting your real life on display. I was thinking this as I read @therightnurse’s recent, very frank post on fibromyalgia, written with a kind of directness I’m quite honestly not brave enough to attempt in front of a full audience.

Like many children with a musical ear, I used to improvise at the piano a lot. The impromptus weren’t technically brilliant – I was (and still am) clumsy at the keyboard –  but you could always tell a piano what you really thought, and it wouldn’t judge you. Instead, it would make music for you, music which could be judged, if there was anyone around to judge it (and often there was not), for itself alone. Some found the music beautiful, some found it annoying, but in either case, the music could be valued for itself rather than for the experience of the one who made it. For a shy child, that was mostly an asset.

Shy people may remain shy even when they’ve disguised themselves with music, and for years I had horrible stage fright. I still do, I suppose, it’s just now I’m marginally better at managing ways around it. Some audiences are less scary than others, though. Friends’ families, babysitting charges… “Why are all the songs so sad?” one littler kid my older-kid self was babysitting once asked me. “Those aren’t sad, just minor. Minor is beautiful.” It wasn’t a lie. Minor is beautiful. Even for those who tend to live life in a minor key.