You’re in a fitting room and oh the irony of that name…”fitting!” Ha-ha! ‘Tis to laugh! You’re struggling, you’re wrestling and you can’t quite help but recall old WWF moments of glory via Macho Man and can relate to Hulk Hogan as you wish you could simply tear this shit off of yourself instead of negotiating your way out of it and back onto the hanger is it’s original condition. Too tight! Boo!
Now the next article you chose from the minimal number of racks of clothing you found in what may or may not be “your size.” You get it on alright and then turn around to face your reflection. D’oh! Too short! Your lower belly is showing! Not okay! You just want to look normal, fit in, not stand out and not show your rolls.
You walk out of the room with your eyes on the ground, the weight of apparent failure on your shoulders as you give the goods back to the attendant. “Nothing worked out, hun?” she asks. You shoot her a look that could stop a man’s heart at twenty paces and swiftly walk out of the joint all together. This sucks! You thought a little “retail therapy” would be just the thing to lift your spirits, not crush them entirely. Ugh! What is the point?!
Sound familiar? It does to me. These were my own thoughts at times. I would walk into a department store or even a Lane Bryant (though, never again on the LB tip for me) and walk out devastated and defeated. I blamed my body. I blamed every roll and hated how everything looked on me, even if the item “fit” otherwise.
Everything for me was too tight or too short. I hated anything that showed off or clung to my belly rolls or worse, my thighs. I felt lost and helpless. I stopped caring about how I looked unless it affected my job. I gave up. And then I discovered fat acceptance/liberation and the wonderful community that it is and slowly but surely it all went away.
It’s a journey, remember, and a very personal and individualized one. There’s no rules or guidelines here, this is life, this is just you. As I grew to accept and finally love my body for all of it’s beauty and “flaws” (and the celebration of those “flaws”), I soon found that what I hated before is what I love now!
I still like my tops around the 28″ length, but now I know that it is more for how it lays on my generously sized and adored hips and not necessarily my belly and rolls. I buy dresses that cling to my body and show off my curves. Not because I think it’s particularly sexy or pleasing to anyone else, but because I like how it looks and feels on me.
This is the evolution of my own personal journey to loving my body. It took those futile trips to the dressing rooms to get me to a point where I gave up on it all. I needed to get there in order to want better for myself. It took a lot of time, too. But there’s no deadline on loving you. You will get there when you’re ready.
Yes, I still wear big comfy tees sometimes and will never not wear doc martens with funky dresses, but I now realize that I have my own style and I rock it for me and no one else! It took me ages to find this out. I used to work in clothes, too, but even then I couldn’t wear what I was selling. I stopped wearing dresses for over ten years because I thought I was too fat! WTF?! Nuts! I know! Now? Now you can’t stop me, the haters can’t stop me and no one can stop you, except you!
Explore what you like and what feels good. And rock the shit out of it! Your body is yours, don’t let the bastards, even the ones in your own head, get you down!