I love...blushing.

This afternoon I was stopped at an intersection downtown and saw an older gentleman dancing on the street corner as he was waiting for his turn to cross the road. He looked in my direction and I threw my hands up in the air and bounced my shoulders a bit to return the dance. Then I looked to my left and the guy in the car next to me was giving me a confused look...and I felt myself start to blush.

If you know me at all or have seen me out and about then chances are you have seen my cheeks get nice and rosey. It could happen at any moment. I can't control it.

I might blush for any of the following reasons:

I trip in front of a group of people.
Someone gives me a compliment.

I'm asked an embarrassing question.

The person next to me is asked an embarrassing question.

Someone on TV is asked an embarrassing question.

I say something stupid.

I say something smart.

I drink too much red wine.

I'm warm.

I'm cold.

I'm Jenny.

 

I could go on. But I won't. I'm getting embarrassed.

 

It's been that way since I was little. I noticed it more so in school, like when the teacher called on me to answer a question in front of the class or a boy I liked picked on me by hitting me on the head with his folder everytime he walked to the pencil sharpener (true story).

I used to hate it and at a certain point it affected my everyday routine. I spent time in class trying to figure out how to make just the right amount of eye contact with the teacher and then pretend I was writing down amazing notes so they wouldn't call on me. Or when my friends said the folder-hitting boy did that cause he liked me back I would find ways to not sit close to the pencil sharpener so he couldn't draw attention to me. It even affected my wardrobe, as I'd try to not wear much red so that if I blushed people couldn't say "Hey, your face matches your shirt!"

The thing about my blushing is that the actual blushing makes me blush more. So I'd start to blush, then feel I was blushing and blush more, then someone would say "Hey, you're blushing" and I'd blush even more...and at that point I'd pray that either my face would explode or the room would go dark so I could make a quick getaway.

I used to hope for a blushing "cure". A potion. A cheek-transplant surgery that would give me the less blushy-cheeks of other people who were able to handle random situations without looking like a blush make-up model gone overboard.

As I've gotten older it's gotten better. This could be the result of guys no longer hitting me on the head in front of my friends to express their feelings. Or it is probably just the result of becoming a lot more comfortable with myself. I'm a goofball who is sometimes clumsy and often says random stuff, and since I've mentally accepted that I think my cheeks have come to accept it, too.

 

But still, I do blush. The difference is that now I don't hate it when I blush. Sure it'd be nice to be able to control the blush level from time to time, but I don't want to stop it anymore. I've decided that it is just my way of showing that I'm feeling every emotion of every moment as they rush through my body and then ultimately show in my cheeks. And you know what else? I like wearing the color red and if my face ends up matching my shirt - cool, I'm color coordinated.

I have a feeling that blushing is always going to be a part of who I am and I'm okay with that. Actually, I look forward to that moment years and years from now when I'll be an old woman dancing on a street corner while I wait for my turn to cross. I'll be the same Jenny, just older and gray...and red.