I was telling this story to a friend of mine and she exclaimed, “You should write about THAT on your blog. A lot of people use fashion to hide who they are. I think people would be interested to know that you use it to emphasize who your qualities.” So, here we go. The day I learned I really accepted myself.
Sadly it was only a couple of months ago. I guess better now than later and definitely better now than never.
A friend of mine texted me on a Friday night:
Yes, I lead such an exciting life.
So (once my nails were dry) I changed out of my yoga pants into some jeans and we went to Bar Italia. Not the trendiest spot ever but it’s within stumbling distance from my house which is always a desirable trait for a bar.
We had a few drinks and I went to the washroom. When I was washing my hands, another girl joined me at the sinks. She was tall, at least six to ten years younger than I am, impeccably done up, hair, makeup, a semi-dressy outfit. (Yes, she was totally over-dressed for Bar Italia – I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt that she was pre-gaming there and off to something way more glamourous after). Now keep in mind I haven’t done my hair or my makeup, still wearing whatever I had put on that morning to go to work. And I looked atmyself in the mirror: shorter, older, minimal makeup and not remotely glamourous (at that moment). And I thought, f*** it. I’m good with that reflection. I’m never going to be taller, and while I am working on losing the last of the baby weight, I am way too curvy to ever look like this girl. I have a great husband who loves me and a daughter I would move mountains for, I get paid to shop for other people and my full-time job is something I (normally) enjoy. Life is pretty great. And I wouldn’t trade that for being 5’10” or looking like a waif.