Dressing UP

Occasionally, I get an idea for a post that I have no idea if it will ever move from unpublished draft to published post.

This is one of those. 
It will not be made of rocket science and publishing secrets. Rather, it will be made of realizations.
I spent the last few days at Dragon Con in Atlanta. For those of you that know what that is, awesome, take a break. For those of you who have never been or heard, Dragon Con is a twenty five year old convention gathering of science fiction and fantasy fans. Or as I described it on Twitter, four days of adult Halloween on the planet of Geek and Fan. 
It's brilliant, and it's also crazy overwhelming. I suppose I could say a great many things about the Con and the things I saw but I'd rather zero in on one thing.
I know why 55,000 adults dress up. 
It's not because it's fun.(It is.)It's not because it's creative. (It is.)It's not just to honor the particular medium they happen to love. (Although that's awesome.)It's not to impress people. (That happens at every turn of the street corner.)
It's because four those four days you get a free pass to be someone else.
And not just anyone.
You get to be an already developed character. Their behavior is acceptable. Their clothes (however scarce) are acceptable. 
Their theirness is you. Just for a short while you get a vacation from you and everyone embraces it.
I know I'm speaking directly to the psychology of cosplay, but I didn't understand it until this weekend. I think this is the first time in my adult life where I played around with being a different version of me. 
I mean this is me: [image error]
Chacos, running shorts, t-shirt, I probably haven't brushed my hair before I jerked it back in a ponytail. (I don't usually have the watermelon tho.)
I'm usually a ruckus of a girl.
This was me at Dragon Con:
[image error]
I don't even know what to make of this girl.
But I liked her.
I kept trying to figure out if I was her or if she was some else I was just playing at. I'm still not sure.
Is that a costume? Yes!Would I wear those clothes again (sans temporary tattoos)? I think so.Would I have before the Con? No.
As a writer, I create characters. And honestly, they are all me. Some version of me. Me selfish. Me brave. Me as a parent. Me as a scared kid. Me saving someone. Me hurting someone. Me winning. Me losing. Me loving. Me living poorly. Me shallow. Me deep. 
It sounds narcissistic at first. But honestly, it's terrifying. If I really liked myself that much, I'd never share that much. I know the best and worst parts about myself. All the things I don't really want to share, but I chose to do through a character. It's vulnerability in a way I can't describe.

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Published on April 16, 2015 10:55
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