I had the most excellent day.

I woke up with the sun and the chirping of birds outside my window, met one of my very best girlfriends for brunch, and then (drum roll please…) got rid of my bra and panties.

Well, actually, I got rid of four bras and a bunch of panties.

You see, I went lingerie shopping.

I’m not talking lace teddies here, but the kind of lingerie I wear every day.

And the reason for the drum roll is that I realized it’s been about FOUR years since I took the time to revamp my booty-coverings.

It’s been in the back of my mind for a long time now, like when you know your oil is due to be changed or your teeth cleaned- and I’ve looked forward to it about as much as either of those things.

Why?

Well, it’s not like I don’t care, or that I’m not a girlie-girl (I wear dresses and heels all the time).

And it’s not as if I haven’t shown off my booty-coverings to anyone in the last four years.

I’ve shown them to a LOT of people.

(Only joking!)

Sure, I care how I look- and yes, I’ve dated and had relationships and cared very much about whether the guy thought I looked good… but somehow the lingerie wardrobe I’ve had has managed to carry me through all of that perfectly well.

But inside, I’ve known I wasn’t taking care of myself the best I could.

I knew that my undergarments, which had felt and looked terrific when I bought them, were starting to get a little, well… worn out.

You know, the way your otherwise lovely face looks the morning after a night on the town.

And when your undergarments are worn out, they don’t make you feel fabulous and they don’t, um… support you as well as they could.

But it’s so easy to chug along with ‘good enough’ and convince ourselves that it isn’t really important to feel terrific.

That’s it’s okay to feel ‘okay’.

I mean, who’s gonna see whether you’re taking care of yourself under the surface?

Well, I’m here to tell you- it is NOT okay to feel ‘okay’.

And that taking care of yourself when no one is looking is exactly what your spirit needs.

Because here’s the deal: when you give yourself so-so care and attention, that’s what you’ll get from others.

The universe is waiting to give you what you’re willing to give.

Not only what you give to others, but what you give to yourself.

Plus, if you don’t care for yourself first, you won’t be able to properly care for others.

When you’re on an airplane and the flight attendant instructs you that, in the event of a change in air pressure, those traveling with small children should put on their own oxygen mask before their child’s, it is because you can’t take care of anyone unless you’ve taken care of yourself first.

So today, I bit the bullet, plunked down my credit card, and walked out of Nordstrom with a couple bags of underneath-it-all self-care goodness.

And you know what?

Even though no one but me may see those lacy, lovely unmentionables (although I guess I just mentioned them) anytime soon, they will make ME feel like a million bucks.

And that is worth every penny.

I’m thinking of having a bra-burning party to celebrate my gesture of self-care.

I could invite all my girlfriends over, tell them to bring their tired, worn-out underthings, and we could throw those sad little garments into my roaring fireplace, pop open a bottle of champagne, and laugh and cry our way through old episodes of Sex & The City.

What do you think, girlfriend? You comin’ over?