Why do I hate fitting rooms?
The mirrors lie. Yes they do. That cant be my body staring back at me. Or can it?
Today, I went shopping for a bathing suit. This is an excursion that i put off until deemed absolutely necessary, an undertaking that, even on the best of days, can take me all the way down to chocolate and potato chip cravings. I begrudgingly walk past all the cute suits, the ones that barely require a hanger and didnt use more than two pieces of thread to stitch together. I tell myself that these are for all the girls, and of course I am a woman now, a mother. Someone's mother. "I wouldnt wear one of those suits now if it fit anyway". Yeah, right.
As I flip too quickly through the one-piece suits that I made fun of as a younger pre-children person, I feel the effects of karma at its finest. Slap. Finally, I find one that is semi-suitable (excuse the pun) and take it into THE ROOM.
This is the part that causes the distress. The real damage. I attempt just trying it on and not turning around to look in the mirror. No. A force I cant explain whirls my body around and I stop, catching my shallow breath. I redress, gather myself and the suit and leave THE ROOM. And walk to the register. And actually pay for the thing. And leave the store in search of that sweet&salty combination that heals most emotional wounds - especially ones as trivial and short-lived as these. ..
Happy shopping!
2 comments:
This is why I order bathing suits from catalogs.
We are new bloggers together! Hooray! Thanks for stopping by. Maybe we can learn some blogging lessons together (I see you are already ahead of me in posting pictures department)
i so hear you on the bathing suit thing. I owned one bikini that I wore, very shyly, on my honeymoon eleven years ago. I didn't want to wear them. But as I look back, I really could have. i looked pretty good. But now.... oh the stretch marks and the belly roll that won't go away. Why did I waste my glorious youth uncomfortable with what was a pretty good physique? sigh.
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