The Dreaded Style of Stripes

You know that moment when you are shopping with someone and they continue to pick out clothes for you to try on and you continue to say no? Eventually it comes to the point where you start to feel bad (at least I do), and feel that soon you should agree to try on the article of clothing even if you really are not a fan.

This afternoon my mom, sister and I were at the mall. This exact thing happened and I was guilted into trying on the worst selection in the store. It wasn’t ugly, in fact I really liked it, but I knew that the moment I put it on I would hate myself. And that I did indeed. It happened to be one of those body tight dresses…with STRIPES. If I was someone else this may not have bothered me, I may not have thought twice about trying it on. But it is me. And it affected me. I know that stripes do not flatter my figure and make me feel awful about myself. I know that there are much better things (black in particular) that make me feel at least a little more comfortable in my body. But of course the stripes are what I agreed to. The stripes were what my mom said “Oh, but it will look so cute! Don’t you think so?” The stripes were what I had to put on and look at myself in. I saw everything. I hated everything. The stripes extenuated exactly what I despise about my body. My hips. My stomach. Every little inch of fat could be seen. Every curve. Ever insecurity.

I know that if I had been alone in the dressing room (without my family waiting outside the door) I would have stared at myself for much, much longer. But since they were out there I knew that I couldn’t. I couldn’t take the time to pick apart every problem, but I surely saw plenty. I could have cried, but I refrained. I could have taken a picture to look at and remind myself of these emotions and thoughts, but thank goodness that I did not. This dress reminded me how much I hate my body. It reminded me how upsetting it is to see pictures from a few years ago and see how much skinnier and in shape I was. It was an awful reminder of the fact that when I went to the doctor on Thursday I weighed in at more than I have ever weighed before. It reminded me that I am fat. I feel awful about myself and this dress sure as hell dropped those feelings even more than before. I hate myself and I hate my body. I hate stripes. I hate that dress. I hate that I said “yes”.


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