blushing

blushing can be a beautiful thing.  it can lend a soft, pink hue to one's cheeks, lighting one's visage, and adding a timid and fetching femininity to one's vulnerability rather like this, or this, or this:

or, blushing can be more brazen, more brash, more red. 

i've been blushing a lot lately.  i've often thought (and said) that i go through phases of blushing and not-blushing, phases where my feelings get the better of my cheeks and me, and phases where we master them.  and then yesterday came, and my best friend told me that i have always been a blusher and have been in denial about it for years.  deep, deep down, i knew that she was right.  so, i think it's time to face the music: i blush.  i blush deeply, and i blush often.  i wear my vulnerability on my facial skin.  and that's ok.  it is time to embrace the blushing.  in order to embrace the blushing, i must understand the blushing.

when i blush, i feel scorched, burned, branded, ablaze.  my emotions have seared their way across my very face, and my face does not like it.  no, not one bit.  my face and i are private creatures.  we would rather not let the world know what we are feeling.  it's embarrassing when our embarrassment is tattooed upon us.

but, blushing is not without its virtues.  blushing is honest, open, candid, and frank.  it is bold, daring, audacious, and cheeky.  it does not hide itself.  instead, it displays itself in all of its rosy glory.  i can stand to be more like that.  and so, i will blush loud and i will blush proud.

blush on.