HOLA SENORITA
For most of my life, I never felt the need to dress up. Growing up as the youngest of six, with four older brothers, I inherited their clothes, kept my hair short, and never thought much about appearance. When a teacher once told me I “could have worn something nice” for a school play, I was genuinely confused — I thought I had. A checked shirt and jeans felt perfectly fine to me.
I didn’t dress to impress. Why would I?
As an adult, I still didn’t follow the rituals many women do — makeup, hair styling, accessories, the little details that make people feel polished. I never judged it; I just didn’t feel drawn to it. I assumed it wasn’t “my thing”.
Then, in 2017, something shifted. I met a doctor who carried herself with such ease — confident, put together, effortlessly feminine. She didn’t say a word to me, but something about her presence made me realise I had been hiding a part of myself out of habit.
It wasn’t about wanting to look like her. It was about wanting to show up as me — fully, intentionally, awake.
Sometimes life repeats the same lesson until we’re ready to hear it.
I realised I had been waiting for the “right moment” to embrace my feminine side — as if I needed a partner first, or a reason. But confidence doesn’t come from someone choosing you. It comes from choosing yourself.
So I started exploring.
My sister helped me understand makeup and clothes. A friend with great style pushed me out of my comfort zone — sometimes with brutal honesty, but always with good intentions. I learned about quality, fit, and how clothes can express who you are rather than hide you.
I even solved my sudden earring allergy and finally wore titanium earrings without pain — a tiny change that made me feel unexpectedly joyful.
And slowly, something beautiful happened: I remembered what it feels like to feel good in my own skin.
Not for attention. Not for validation. But for confidence, presence, and self-respect.
When I dressed up for Halloween, women who had never looked at me twice suddenly did. Not because I was “better,” but because I was visible. I was showing up with intention instead of blending into the background.
Makeup became a playful skill to learn — not a mask, but a tool. I practised eyeliner like a teenager, laughed at my mistakes, and kept going. I paid attention to how other women express themselves, not to copy them, but to understand the language of femininity I had ignored for years.
Using my feminine side didn’t make me less me — it made me more complete. It opened doors to a different kind of confidence, a different kind of presence, and eventually, a different kind of partner.
This isn’t about becoming someone else. It’s about allowing yourself to become the version of you that has been waiting quietly in the background.
Hola señorita — she was always there. She just needed an invitation.
BEFORE 37
- I never straightened my hair.
- I put eyeliner about 10 times in my life.
AFTER
I make an effort to dress up.
I straighten my hair (cheers GHD).
I try to wear eyeliner.