When I sat down with my laptop after the costuming event I went to in order to edit pictures, I turned to the Chaplain and remarked that I could tell from my face that I’d waited till after the event for photos. I showed him what I meant in a couple of pics – In too many of them,  fake smiles, a desperate glint in my eye, and blank looks stared back at me.

Because the Chaplain loves me, I looked fine to him and he didn’t notice the difference.This morning, I woke up around 4:30 a.m. and couldn’t go back to sleep.

This afternoon I went to a Jane Austen tea.

I enjoy dressing up for the teas, but I always get there a little late. I have gotten better at dressing up quickly and managing my time before events (although I still haven’t figured out how to eat before I have to leave), and instead of being twenty minutes late like last year, I was only five minutes late – so I am improving at least some of the time. I was still the last person to arrive.

There was one spot left at one of three long tables in the room where the tea was set up when I walked into the room.

I knew most of the people at the table by sight, but we’d never really talked much. They seemed to have come together.

I was sitting at the end, and not a natural part of the four-part conversation happening at the table. The people were very nice and made an effort to include me in their conversation.

But we didn’t know each other, and everyone stuck to small talk. We talked about what we did for a living, and as plate after plate of gluten-free foods came to me, I felt I was on the defense about my dietary limitations. I had to explain about my huge number of kids when someone asked. And stare at my hands while another person at the table virtue signaled so hard she almost fell off her chair.

By the time I got home, I was SO tired. I’m sure the 4 a.m. wake-up didn’t help, but my mental bandwidth was also completely fried from working so hard to Be Normal With Others.

I somehow hung in there long enough after getting home to have my daughter take some photos before collapsing onto my bed.Why am I telling you this? I miss writing here, and it’s been hard to come back with my musings for a thousand reasons.

I’m pleased with how the costume came out – I replaced the bodice of the white, cross front gown that I outgrew before I was able to wear it, using the Simplicity 8941 bodice piece a size up from the first time I sewed a version of the gown. I was able to keep the front lining from the original gown, which helped me put it back together again more easily.

I added some lace trim to a cross-front chemisette I made a while ago. It’s a tiny, unnoticeable change that makes me feel loved.

I also made a cotton spencer.

The spencer started with the Laughing Moon 129 pattern, but I chopped up the front bodice piece to get the shape I was looking for from the inspiration image I found, and added a shawl collar. This is what I was originally going for:But then I also saw this one: As well as another that had pointy tails on it. So I mashed up all three and added some Van Dyke Trim, a wonderful, period-accurate trim made up of little triangles.

I had wanted to make or buy the triangle trim I kept seeing in period fashion plates for a long time, but wasn’t able to because I didn’t know what it was called. I finally thought to ask a costuming friend if she knew what it was, and sure enough, she was able to give me the name of the pointy trim, as well as lots of resources.

The skirt piece I attached to the back was supposed to take a swallowtail shape, but because of the way it hangs on me, the pleats didn’t do what they were supposed to. I think the answer is to add something with a little weight to the pointed ends, maybe tassels? Or cut the center back of the skirt up the center, or make it shorter. I don’t really know.Worst case scenario, I just take off the back skirt and leave the front as is, because the Van Dyke trim did the double duty of interfacing the front opening of the spencer and giving it a wonderful shape I wasn’t expecting. For these little points, I started out with a strip of fabric 2 inches wide, and a lot of marking, cutting, and folding later, had these pretty, even points all in a line.

I have this reminder on my calendar, from so long ago I don’t know when or why I added it, exactly: It has no context. It says, “sit with discomfort.”

That’s what I’m feeling right now. I’m feeling discomfort about how this costume turned out even though to anyone’s eyes but mine it looks fine.

I’m feeling uncomfortable about the tea and working harder than I’d anticipated just to Human.

I’m feeling uncomfortable with what I want for myself, the waning sunlight, the coming winter, and not being sure if all the things I’ve done to get well will be able to stand up to Old Man Winter.

As I always do, I’m whipping my concerns into a great big tropical storm that wouldn’t be possible with just one or two of them alone. They aren’t really related, but they belong in the same category in my head because they all make me uncomfortable.

I just had a birthday yesterday. My youngest keeps making comments like, “Wow, I can’t believe you’re 43.” While my oldest daughter says, “So how does it feel to be twenty?” The perceptions of the milestone, and my kids’ different ways of relating to me, is jarring. I don’t want to be twenty OR be reminded I’m 43, but I’m also not sure what I DO want. I had a sort of mid-life crisis back in my mid to late thirties. I’m a little unhappy that it seems like I’m gearing up for another. Wasn’t one enough?

What is the point of me? Why can’t I just enjoy costuming without getting stuck in poisonous loops of perfectionism? Why doesn’t being a person get easier with time?

By sticking around, you will almost certainly not get answers these questions, but maybe in between the pretty costuming pics we can sit with discomfort together.

Friends, if you’ve made it this far, I want to leave you with a book recommendation: Ariadne, by Jennifer Saint. It’s a retelling from Greek mythology, and I enjoyed it so much. It coincidentally matched the project I was working on while I was reading it: