Drama in the Dressing Room

Aren't dressing rooms the most dynamic of places?

I mean we can experience such a vast myriad of emotions ranging from ebullient joy to bottomless depression...

depending on the meaning we assign to the image we see in the mirror.

Only a year and a half ago a dressing room would've been something I dreaded.

And, because I dreaded it I often avoided it.

Because I avoided it my selection of wearable clothes was quite small, so small in fact that I would often joke that certain outfits were "my uniform".

I had such a small selection clothes to wear that actually fit although my actual closet was chock-full.

Why?  You may ask.

Because I had so many different sizes in my closet, most of which didn't fit.

It's like you can go shopping in your own closet because there's every size imaginable.

Do you know what I'm talking about?

There are the "oh gosh, I remember that outfit from that great time in my life, that special day" outfits.

There are the when-I-was-still-thin outfits because those are also the I'll-be-able-to-wear-it-again-someday outfits.

After a while you have a closet full of things you can't wear for the most part.

Fortunately since I've lost weight the dressing room experience doesn't come with the need for Kleenex.

At this stage it's more fun again and I often find myself in a place of curiosity.

I'm still trying to figure out what I really look like past the perceptions I have of myself shaped from the images I still see in the back of my mind from years gone by, both good and bad.

During my last visit to a dressing room I decided to try on what looked like Dress Barn's version of Spanx.

I've heard a lot about Spanx but I have never tried them on and, let me say, I don't knock anyone who does wear them.

If it makes you feel better about yourself and it doesn't cause harm I think it's a good thing in general.

So I picked up a sort of tank top thing.

When I tried to put it on I got an overwhelming feeling of panic.

I was tussling in the dressing room with an inanimate object and the fabric was winning.

I felt trapped and almost yelled for the sales associate to help me as panic started to sink it's ugly teeth into me.

I was finally able to pull it over my head and then I looked in the mirror.

My hair was an utter mess and somehow my breasts were mashed up and sideways.

As I tried yanking it into place it only seemed to make it worse.

In addition I was finding breathing to be somewhat difficult and the pressure on my abdomen uncomfortable.

And, really, the look for me was not flattering.

I rather looked like the Pillsbury dough boy.  You squeeze me in the middle and it just shoots up top and down bottom.

It seemed my belly fat was now part of my breasts and my hips looked even fuller.

Of course I had to just laugh at myself.

And, for me, it wasn't worth all the torture.

I'm kind of over being that uncomfortable.  I don't wear pointy toed or high healed shoes anymore and I dearly love pants that aren't covered in loads of snaps, buttons and zippers.

Of course I'm not the same girl I was in my 20's.  My priorities have changed because I have changed.

And even though I would still like to lose 10 lbs I love myself just the way I am.

I don't need to be a size 2 anymore to feel good enough.

I like having curves and not having to live my life like I'm under some dictatorship where every calorie is the enemy.

That's not real and it's not sustainable.

I think perspective in all things is a plus.

So when you're in the dressing room and you're feeling upset, step back and take a breath.

Remember your worth is not based on your size or how you look in that outfit.

Whether its a success or a flop you're still irreplaceable and valuable just the way you are.