Fiercely Independent Pam

Category: Memories

  • Do Your “Fancy” Clothes Hold Memories?

    Recently, I emptied a wardrobe box from my storage unit. I was hoping to find a treasure chest of clothes that would fit my current size, but instead I found a box full of memories in the form of “fancy” clothes. To be fair, I packed this box over eight years ago, so I really couldn’t remember what was in it. As I opened each outfit, mostly dresses for “fancy” outings or events, I recalled memories attached to each item.

    In my past life as a principal, I attended several functions a year that I would consider “fancy.” There was always graduation, something that I believed always required tasteful, professional attire and loved to shop for something new each year. Some of the dresses were from graduations. Other dresses were from gala’s attended or other society type fundraisers. And then there were the specific event pieces. My favorite was my white and black dress suit that I bought for the closing Mass at my first school. I loved that outfit and it was perfect for the event. Tasteful, elegant, and it stood out; showing others that I was not afraid of what was to come, but still honoring the past. There was also the suit set that I purchased and wore for my first national speaking gig.

    Then there were the dresses yet to be worn, just hanging there, in a way that asked, “What happened?’ I always picked up dresses that were on sale that would fit my needs so that I was never in a panic to find something last minute. Still, these unworn dresses reminded me that the life I had came to a suddent stop. There weren’t anymore graduations to lead or Masses to attend, or Gala’s.

    Instead of hitting me like a ton of bricks and catapulting me backwards into darkness, I found amusement in the fact that my current wardrobe is reminiscent of my college times and I no longer fight to get into Spanx just to be able to zip up a ‘fancy” dress for an event. The fanciest I get these days is a sweater with a pair of jeans. As much as I miss the excitement of the events I would wear these dresses to, I do not miss the stress of it all. I much prefer my jeans, shorts, and t-shirts to these dresses.

    Now the question is “What do I do with these dresses?” I want to keep the classics that can be worn regardless of trends because weddings happen, I hope to attend a fundraiser or two for organizations I believe in, and most importantly, money is tighter than ever and I am no longer in a place to afford such nice clothes. I am going to have them all dry-cleaned and then decide what I can donate and to where. I want to do that purposely. That is, I want these statement pieces to live on and promote someone’s independence. For my blue ball gown I hope it finds a home in theatre. As for my awesome dress suit, I may just have to hold on to it a little bit longer.

    As I side note, I could only take myself so seriously when going through this wardrobe box because apparently plastic dry-cleaning bags begin to disintegrate after time and make tiny pieces of clear plastic “snow” EVERYWHERE!! My apartment looked like a snow globe. It was so bad that I even broke out my own vacuum and pretended I had the energy to clean up. Luckily, I had some wonderful help in that area!

    How do you give life to your collection of “fancy” clothes? Do you hold on to them just for the sake of memories or just in case you might need them? What kind of charities could use this type of clothing? Please help me out!

    An Example of some “fancy clothes.” Presenting in Orlando at a National Conference!

  • Manifesting, Is it Just Good Luck?

    The English language is tough. So many words have various meanings that just don’t make sense. Take the word, manifest or manifesting, for example. Are we talking about a ship/plane’s document, willing something into being, or seeing something differently? It’s a difficult thing to master for sure.

    Back to manifest or manifesting, I’m not sure if its my stubborn personality that has been called bulldog- like, or my never ending patience to see something through, but I believe in the power of manifesting something into being. My father used to comment on my ability to make something happen though nothing sort of pure will and a LOT of hard work.

    When I was in high school (way too long ago), I made a habit of taking classes that I really had no business taking. Mostly AP or honor level classes. I knew that I wasn’t ever going to be an “A” student, so I might as well take the harder classes and work harder for my “B”, or sometimes worse. It was a system that paid off for me in more ways than one. First, I had better teachers, most of which figured out my plan and supported it. Second, I was exposed to better curriculums that required critical thinking. Third, and most importantly, I got some general education credits out of the way to allow me to take a ridiculous course load in college.

    It was during my first AP class, European History, that I earned my title as a Bulldog. I remember it vividly, my teacher sent me a note (a real paper note through the mail) that simply said “A 3!!! You are a Bulldog!!!” The number 3 was my score, it meant that I would get credit for the course in college and throughout the school year it seems that a 3 was WAY out of reach for me. I didn’t know it at the time, but it taught me that I can manifest something into being. It didn’t only take my brain to work, but a lot of hard work and patience.

    And so it went for many more classes. There was honors chemistry where I know the only reason I passed was because I promised my teacher that I would never torture another chem teacher by taking another chemistry class. The joke was on me when I ended up roommates and best buds with a chemistry major!

    Fast forward beyond high school and college. If I set my mind to something, it happened. It was never easy, but I successfully manifested things like becoming a principal, running a half-marathon, attaining enrollment goals, fundraising for specific causes, adding programs, losing (and then gaining) weight. If I put my mind, heart, prayers, and work into making something happen, it did. These were great times.

    Except when it didn’t happen. No amount of hard work, prayers, or manifesting could stop my school from closing or getting sick, or losing my parents. It’s taking me a long time to realize this is where I gained my fuel for manifesting other things into being. The unsuccessful attempts drive me to be more patient, say more prayers, and work harder.

    I am ready for success to happen to me again. I learned to dream and put good thoughts back into the universe. The bulldog is awake! Today, I received positive news on something I am working super hard at manifesting into being- think wet noses. I am calling this the “Why Not Me?” phase/era of my life. (Thank you Kelli Gerardi) Good things can happen to anyone, so why not to me? Some people get the fairy tale endings, why can’t I get it too?

    I’ve learned that luck has nothing to do with manifesting something. It may help, but hard work, prayers, and patience will win every time!

  • Appearance Matters: When Chronic Illness Steals Your “Look!”

    No matter how hard I try to pretend that my appearance doesn’t matter to me, I always know it does. During the pandemic, I was very sick. I spent more time in the hospital than home and had many rounds of tough medications and treatments. All of this caused havoc on my body and its appearance.

    I was on steroids constantly and not just a little Medrol pack or short course, but iv and high dose Decadron for months at a time. At one point I gained so much weight, so quickly that my stretch marks began to pull apart and tear the skin. The steroids allowed me to continue breathing and it was stressed to me that I needed them. I spent half my day on a non-invasive ventilator and sometimes the whole day. All of this took an amazing impact on my appearance.

    When you add on the complications of the pandemic- not really going anywhere or being able to get to a salon, the results were dramatic to my appearance. Besides the stretch marks, which I continue to battle with every day, my hair was thinning and falling out. My once thick curly/frizzy hair became baby fine and a simple act of brushing it or washing it, led to major loss. My eyebrows thinned out as well and became almost non-existent. I hated my appearance, but also was so proud of myself for surviving.

    Fast forward to October 23, 2020, I made myself an appointment at my favorite salon for a hair cut (shape) and color. I remember it was surreal to deal with the rules of the pandemic and wasn’t able to have it blown out or dried. A simple visit became a statement that I was going to “win.” Treatments weren’t going to hold me down and hold me back. I radically changed my appearance from a worn down- sick person, to a warrior, determine to fight my demons and not let the scars win. I chose to go red and loved the color change.

    Little did I know that I would eventually have to shave my entire head for brain surgery. (Click here for more about that). My hairdresser at that amazing salon was with me through it all! She is a perfect example of a hero without a cape.

    I will continue to not let the hard days win by ignoring my appearance when necessary, but celebrating it when possible. Today, I continue to fight with my hair- but love the curls God granted me and the wild, unpredictable nature of having curly hair.

    As for the stretch marks- I am at a loss. I have decided the best thing to do is embrace them as battle scars. They stand as a testament to all I have won! While not the convention of beauty, I find them amazing- a statement of what our bodies can do for us!

    The result of my beauty treatment at the salon- notice the awesome color, but also the crazy thin hair and hairline.