Free Moore To Love by Faith Andrews

festivities, and me—I have a new pep in my step that makes me feel unstoppable.

EVER GET THIS FEELING WHEN you first pop your eyes open in the morning that your day is destined to be brilliant?
    Well, I’ve had that uplifting positivity infused through my veins all week. And the destiny gods have most certainly delivered with good juju. Call it a fluke, or just a streak of good fortune, but I’m calling it it’s about damn time Leni sees the light.
    On Monday, I got the call that our team at the studio was requested on a photo shoot for an up and coming swimsuit line. To say I was thrilled is an understatement. Something like this is a huge deal in the makeup world. It means my name is getting out there—somehow. And my name on anyone’s lips means great things in this industry. Doors could open, opportunities might arise, shit could get real. All pluses in my book.
    Then came Tuesday, when two of my regular clients gave me rather large, unexpected tips. One loved the risk I took with her eyebrow shaping (she’d been sporting the Brooke Shields 80’s look a little too long). The other was simply in a good mood and felt like paying it forward. Thank you very much, have a nice day.
    When Wednesday rolled around, I hopped on the scale for weigh-in day and found I’d lost another two pounds. There were weeks I’d lost more, less, and even zilch. But I hadn’t gained since I started and to me that’s winning. And I’m not talking about the Charlie Sheen type of winning. The continuous dropping of pounds means I’ve not only stuck to a plan but finally figured out how to change my lifestyle. Any health nut will tell you it’s not a diet, it’s a lifestyle and I’ve become a firm believer in that philosophy. Like I said, I’ve seen the light.
    Yesterday my luck continued when Hudson texted me. It’s becoming a normal thing and quite honestly, I enjoy the attention, but I’ve yet to accept his offer for another “date.” One, because he’s made it clear that his definition of date is more like a booty call, and two, because, well, like I told Tatum, I’m learning to love me and it ain’t happening overnight.
    I’ve definitely become more comfortable in my own skin, and part of that is because of what I see in the mirror, but the rest of it can only be explained as a come to Jesus moment. For once in my life, I get it. Looks aren’t everything. Happiness comes in other shapes and forms, and I’m not talking about that apple or pear shape analysis of the body that society makes you obsess over. I’m a cool chick and people dig me. That’s happiness; the only kind I should’ve ever cared about. So, I’m rolling with it and stringing Hudson along until he either moves on to the next curvy chica or accepts that the only thing I can offer him right now is a discounted eyebrow threading or my friendship.
    Today feels no different as I step out onto my favorite path and turn up the volume to a Milky Chance tune that I adore. Stolen Dance echoes through my ears and gets my heart pumping and my arms swinging in time to the catchy beat. I always find myself mouthing the words to my favorites, and wonder if people see me and think I’m cuckoo. I honestly don’t care because I’m in my zone and as Starship would say, nothing’s gonna stop me now.
    The air is crisp and the leaves have started to fall, Mother Nature’s way of readying herself to welcome the season I love best. I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of dewy, fresh-cut grass and damp, musty tree bark. And then it hits me— BAM! Literally.
    Holy shit that hurt! The unexpected impact causes me to fall flat on my ass. The initial pain overwhelms my skull. The world is spinning. I cover my eyes to rub the throbbing sensation away. Where did that tree come from? My vision is blurry so I blink to clear it, but it remains unfocused, further confusing me. “Mother fu—” I start to whine, but I’m stopped by a helping hand at my shoulder.
    “Oh