I felt like I was dying that day. “Could you lead the team of girls this week?” my leader asked, as her flight was delayed, and she would fly to NYC later than planned.
There I was, with a heart that was frightened to death yet willing. I loved these girls and was committed to what we were doing. Yet I remembered myself so many times frozen from fear in front of a crowd of people.
A shy and timid teenager from a poor family. Quiet and reserved. An introvert with a broken self-image. A girl who loved fashion yet had to wear broken and patched, even ugly clothes, while growing up. But I had a sense that something else was spoken over me.
I was going to the New York fashion week to help dress up the models in twenty shows. I had just experienced a season when gentle yet powerful truths were poured into my deceived heart.
I was starting to see that there was more to my story than the lies I had believed in for so long. So I said yes. I came together with the girls. A group of us started felting and creating necklaces and bracelets of deep purple color. Reminding ourselves we’re fiercely loved and gently held.
Then that day arrived, that I walked out of the subway on the first morning of Fashion Week with the girls. All dressed in black, hair neatly tied, as was the dressing code. Our hearts were heady to encourage the young models we would be serving.
My steps were still heavy from fear but my heart had started to sing. And what a week it was. It spoke so gently yet radically to my poor girl - identity. My eyes were opened to see what lies where dimming my sight of who I really was. And poverty or riches had nothing to do with that.
I saw beyond the shell. And the actual pearl started to form in front of my eyes. And it became easier to see that pearl inside of others too. Since my own pain didn't play the leading role anymore. Healing brought new kind of closeness and ability to love deeper.
✨
Pia
