In preparation for my big day on Monday (interview and diagnostic mammogram), I have been doing some shopping. After looking in my closet to determine what I would wear to the interview, I realized I had nothing. Nothing that I felt would work anyway. While my specially tailored skirts from Uganda show a big piece of who I am, I wanted to come across a bit more professional. Thus, a trip to Ross where you can ‘dress for less.’
After disappearing into the jungle of dresses, I emerged with my limit of eight and headed to the dressing room for the next phase of this adventure. Heading to the dressing room, I was feeling pretty confident. I am pretty happy with who I am. After 47 years, I have determined I am pretty in my own unique way. I have accepted my body as is – the extra pounds and all. I dress to look my best and put on make-up to accentuate the positive. Trying on dresses was going to be fun.
The dress that went into the MAYBE pile. (Not sure what I am thinking posting this picture.) |
I put on the first dress and looked in the mirror. Where did all that fat come from? That is not the woman I see looking back at me at home. Must be the dress. To the NO pile it went. I picked up my favorite dress of the group, a black one with orange flowers, and put it over my head. Which is where it should have stayed and then I wouldn’t have seen it sucking to every bump and bulge that I have. It might work if you have one of those tummy control things I told myself. The dress went into the MAYBE pile. The next one showed cleavage I thought had disappeared with my breast reduction. No good for a teaching interview. I didn’t even have the desire to try on a couple of them. The last dress I tried on wasn’t a dress at all, but rather a suit. The combination of the stripes and polka dots looked flattering as it can get in the stark lighting of the dressing room. What would this dress say about me? Does it reflect who I am? It would have to. I had spent more than the recommended time for any woman to spend in dressing room lighting. Being fickle, and the fact that both my MAYBE and YES dress were on sale, I bought them both.
Polka dots are so much better for my figure. |
Today brought shoe and bra shopping. Shoe shopping went great. I don’t know why I didn’t start wearing heels long ago. As soon as I put them on, I felt tall and sexy. Not sure how I will feel after wearing them for more than a couple of hours. Finding the perfect bra, on the other hand, crushed any feeling of sexiness. I am pretty sure it had more to do with the special effects of the lighting and mirrors than either the bras or my body. Why is it that dressing rooms can make a beautiful person (like me) feel not so beautiful? Upon looking in the mirror I saw a baby beluga starring back at me. I tried a few incantations hoping to get my reflection back. No such luck. It was then I realized the market for a dressing room mirror that would show one’s inner beauty.
I am beautiful. Inside and out. My blobs and bulges that horrified me in that tiny little room, are the result of bringing three wonderful children into the world. That and eating lots of ice cream while I grew them. I genuinely care about people. I am kind. I will do anything for anybody. My love and passion for life shines through me (or so I have been told). Now to find a mirror that shows all of that. I think the next time I go into a dressing room, I will go prepared with affirmations to stick on the mirror:
“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” ~Proust
(Thank you Katherine for reminding me of the importance of the way in which we look at things.)
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Oh, Mandie, you make me smile! This is the way I want my girls to feel about themselves. You are a good example. Inside and out. ☺
ReplyDeleteAwesome post! Whoever says "It's what's on the inside is what matters" doesn't go far enough, implying that it's possible to be physically ugly when you are beautiful on the inside.
ReplyDeleteI think that your physical self is a mere symbol (like your name) of what's inside. If you make it represent something beautiful, that symbol will be the most beautiful of them all.
Though a rose by any other name may smell just as sweet, the word "rose" would not be as beautiful if it meant anything else.