Today I was walking through Nordstrom on my way into the mall.
I saw a dress that I found stunning.
The dress in question.
I held it up against me, feeling the silk flow perfectly below my knees and softly thought,
“Someday I’ll be pretty again. Then I can wear something like this.”
I walked away and felt sad.
I promised myself that I would work out 30 minutes extra next week to make up for my failures this week.
I promised to start that smoothie-only diet that sounded like it would work.
I promised to not buy any new clothes until I deserved to buy them.
This didn’t feel abnormal. I remind myself that I am unworthy of beautiful things often.
Then a louder voice came alive in the pit of my stomach. It said:
Did you hear what you just said to yourself? That was awful.
I stopped mid-Nordstrom and thought about the damage I’d just done.
About the normalcy of it, the vicious cycle I’d created. If I had stood outside of myself in that moment, it would be considered a form of abuse.
I thanked the loud voice, awoken by the wisdom of the body-positive women I surround myself with. This voice reminds me that the focus of my existence is not to lose weight. It reminds me that I am more than a size, despite impending wedding dress fittings.
I wondered if I might love myself today.
I walked back to the dress and had a conversation with myself, with terminology that should have come to mind instead.
“This dress is stunning. Do they have my size? No? That’s okay. There are lots of dresses that will fit me and flatter me just as I am.”
I promise to try and change the narrative inside of me, so that my infinity is not paved with negativity.
Will you join me?