Wednesday, February 01, 2017

If The Dress Fits...

On my last visit to Canada I found myself going through the closest of the room I was staying in at my parents house. A room that all of us had as our own bedroom at one point or another. In it was stored old dresses from weddings and the like. I also found the dress I wore to my year 10 formal.


Looking at this dress this past August, holding it in front of me, it'd be nice to say that I remembered how fun the formal was or how good the food was, or something stupid so and so did that I'll always remember. But I can't. The only thing I can remember is how self conscious I was. I HATED shopping for myself, for a few reasons, but mostly because I really did not enjoy looking in the mirror at myself when trying on clothes. I did find a dress that fit, looked good on me, and was on sale. I remember posing for photos in this dress before heading to the formal and positioning myself to look as thin as possible, and hide my arms that I hated (I was petrified at wearing a dress with no sleeves) and stick my chin out just so, to minimise how huge it was. And I remember spending most of the evening trying to blend in, not stand out, so maybe that cute guy over there didn't notice how ugly and fat this girl was, and who did she think she was wearing a dress like that. 


Holding up this dress in front of me this past August, showing it to my sister who I shared a room with during our visit, I stood dumbfounded at how stinking tiny it was! I don't mean revealing...I mean, now it would only fit one leg! It's crazy to think how self conscious I felt (brought on totally by myself, as I had really loving and supportive family and friends) despite how damn good I actually looked! I'm also disappointed in myself that for a night that should hold some really awesome memories, all I can recall is how uncomfortable and ugly I felt in my own skin, pretending that I felt okay and hoping no one noticed. 


I have been plagued with feelings of hate for myself for as long as I can remember. It's true you know, you are your own worst enemy. The things I thought about myself, and still do, is far worse then what anyone else could say to me. No one holds me back or gets in my way quite like I do.I spent hours as a teenager staring in the mirror practicing ways of standing to minimise the areas I hated (and therefore everyone else must not like about me as well), finding clothes that covered up my cubby areas, and practicing ways of putting on makeup that made me feel beautiful.  I have also had to work hard most of my life to stay fit and healthy, although not always through the best means. 


I did adopt a style that I loved and was all my own, around year 8 I think. I fell in love with bell bottoms and tye dye, and filled my entire wardrobe with things that were bright, colourful and clashing, and I haven't looked back. I had tried the avenue of blending in and not getting noticed, which made me anything but happy. I remember exactly where I was sitting with my friends in middle school when one of the girls said "why do you wear the same pony tail in your hair every single day?" Seriously, since that moment, I have not stopped trying to find creative and different ways to do my hair. I think I realised I didn't want to be the same and boring, and I'd try the bright and colourful to hide my insecurities instead. 


I am still incredibly thankful for the amazing friends I made in high school, several of whom I'm still good friends with, for how they pushed me and challenged me, and stood by me even when I wouldn't stand by myself. I definitely wouldn't have ever thought myself fit or sporty enough to try out for any teams, never mind actually help start up a girls La Crosse team. I was so self conscious in gym class, that I couldn't run around the track without one hand holding out my shirt because I didn't want any passerby watching any of my bits wobble around. 

I had convinced myself that I was far too unfit to be able to achieve anything in sport or fitness (sigh, you silly silly teenager) but held to the encouragement my good friend Jenn gave me that fitness is not what you see on the outside, and shape and size has nothing to do with what your capable of and how fit you are. It was over 15 years ago that she forced those words on a reluctant me who was petrified of playing organised sport, but it's words that I now hold close as I aim to reach new goals as an adult and have since smashed out three 10k runs (well, jogs), which the teenager me would never had believed possible. 


In August I stood staring at a dress that I had convinced myself at the age of 15 that I looked terrible in and shouldn't be wearing. I think the hardest time to love yourself is when you're a teenager, but sometimes it's difficult to outgrow. We discover new things as an adult that continue to make us vulnerable and doubt our self worth. We end up in relationships that hurt us; we struggle to find study or work that makes us feel valued and fulfilled; we become parents and realise we are treading into unknown and frightening territory and that it's far too late to turn back now. We continue to be our own worst enemy.


So, when will it stop? At what age will we finally say, enough is enough? I want to love life, I want to love myself, I want to be able to love others, and I want to be happy? When will we stop tearing one another down (other women, other parents, our coworkers, celebrities, those who are different from us) because we're actually just full of hurt, fear and self doubt and it's the easiest way to try to feel better?


Well, I've been working on that this past year. 2016 was a year for me to work on loving myself, loving God and his creations (including myself), loving my family, and loving those around me. I've started to follow more positive and encouraging pages and people on Facebook and unfriend or unfollow those that aren't (I may follow a LOT more celebrities on Facebook then actual people I know...); I've been reading more books that inspire challenge and encourage who I am; I discovered Constance Hall and that's brought me a lot of courage and validation in celebrating my queenliness; I've worked on spending more time with healthy people who bring and add something to my life; I've discovered an amazing gym that I love spending time at and have put time and money into utilising it as a place to make me physically, emotionally and mentally more fit; and I've worked on trying to figure out what will make me and my family happy.


The journey isn't done yet, but right now I feel a lot more like myself then I have in a long time. Able to shred away from guilt that I don't need to carry, feel brave about voicing my opinion and not being afraid to say things like "yes, I am a feminist, and that's not a dirty word", feel confident in who I am as a parent, and feel the freedom to express myself and who I am without worrying what others are going to think. I wish I felt half this confident 20 years ago, and hadn't wasted so much time and energy on trying to please others or defending who I am.


So, dear 15 year old insecure terrified and BEAUTIFUL me... take a deep breath, ignore the haters, and wear the hell out of that dress.