last night I went shopping for an outfit to wear to Thanksgiving. It wasn’t even the biggest deal in the world that I find something to wear, but I was determined to find something in the last 1.5 hours before the stores closed. So I grabbed my uber-fashionable, uber-patient (as you will see) BFF and we hit the ground running.
it started with a beautiful shirt that BFF picked that I thought made me look like a linebacker. i cried in the dressing room.
then we tried on pants and, more harried and frustrated, I complained that my ass looked bad /fat/smashed in every single pair I tried on. Patient BFF sat outside the dressing room and told me to knock it off, in the most helpful way, when I pushed out of the dressing room, shaking my head in childish defeat.
at one point, as I moped and shuffled and complained from one end of the mall to the other, BFF leading the charge, I said, probably for a dumb ass reason, “you are treating me like a child.” He replied, most appropriately, “Yep.”
“Because you are acting like one.”
then there were shoes, where I compared myself to a man soldier. we laughed a little at this one, but still, as I rang up the boots that were a far cry from soldier-wear, I thought to myself: If someone who reads my blog in the future was told that this complain-y, annoying girl, standing right here, was the one spouting good-feelings-good-life advice, they would feel betrayed, misguided, and delete the blog from their RSS.
When I got back to BFF’s, I tried everything on again, and now feeling guilt, embarrassment, and regret over ruining what could have been an amazing night with BFF, shame about my fraudulent nature to my future blog readers, and just a general ugliness and loss of control that accompanies these “tailspins”, I convinced myself again that everything looked bad and laid on the bed in faux despair.
Luckily for me, BFF does not put up with this shyyt. One of his many wonderful qualities that makes me in awe of him. In a fair way, as only he could, he put me in my place. And it was over.
On my way home, I still felt stupid and ashamed, thinking “you did it again – you got yourself all worked up and then couldn’t get your head out of your ass. Nice work.”
Then, I thought of this blog. My last entry. And aha!
Just like the sad mornings, I never EVER want to get into a body image/clothes/looks/fashion or lackthereof tailspin again. Life is way too short to ruin fun nights with BFF, or myself, or anything with the fear of the dreaded tailspin.
Never again. Never, ever.
I vowed it on my short drive home, and when I got into my apartment, I tried on everything again and loved it all. I picked an outfit for Thanksgiving easily. What I needed to do to avoid the tailspins began to be clear – I threw a pile of clothes that made me feel frumpy into a plastic bag for the Goodwill. I started a cash fund in an envelope just for clothes that I can use each month. I woke up feeling amazing and free, my life no longer having the option of this frivolous, silly episode.
I’m embarrassed of last night, but I’m glad it happened for the sake of following my own advice on this blog. And I hope this embarrassment can be used for even greater good, in helping whoever one day reads this, too. 🙂