Ready to see what this social experiment is all about? I really like to follow trends in fashion. Right now, rompers are huge. I think they’re so cute and comfy looking and I’ve been dying to try one out. A friend gave me one that was pants and I wore it very nervously. After all, everything I work so hard to cover is not hidden by baggy shirts or layers. Turns out I hated it mostly because I couldn’t pee without an assistant. Thankfully Brett was there to hold my hand. So now here comes summer….flowy short rompers are everywhere! And I want it so bad!
Yesterday I asked Brett to take me to Torrid. There were several rompers and most of them were very bold, loud prints. I found an off white one that was semi tame and excitedly put it on. Man was I bummed when I turned around. It was not a good look on me at all and I was so disappointed. After trying other things on that were much more flattering, I headed to the register when this blue piece caught my eye. I had to try it on. I reluctantly came out of the dressing room and before I could nit pick myself to death, Brett looked at me wide eyed and said “that looks great baby!” Immediately my reservations dissipated and I decided to rock the hell out of this romper.
When we were headed home, I was thinking of all the things I hated about myself in the outfit and how my husband didn’t notice a single one of them. It made me wonder who really does notice the things I hate? So I turned to my great friends on Facebook and asked their opinion. Do you know not ONE SINGLE “flaw” I have was pointed out. Matter of fact, my legs were one of the first things I frowned at. Flabby knees, cellulite, jiggly thighs…I was disgusted. But I had many comments about what great legs I have. What?!?! I won’t list the other things I hate because if you haven’t noticed it’s silly to draw attention at this point and I obviously need to stop beating myself up over it. But most of the negative points were the print of the outfit. Not me.
Here’s the thing. Someone has told us we should be ashamed of our bodies. Someone has some unwritten guideline as to who is allowed to wear what. Someone has drilled it into our heads that we are imperfect and don’t deserve to be free. Who the hell is this someone?! Who said a plus size girl can’t wear a romper and be happy in it? Why does that someone get to make the rules over MY life??? Why am I giving some invisible being that kind of power over me? It’s time we stop that immediately. I was sad to see how many girls said “I wish I could wear that.”
So how do you get past it? I don’t know. I know for me, I ask my husband to pick clothes for me. And no matter what I see in the mirror, I go with his response. He’s been brutally honest at times so I know he won’t let me look silly. But I strive to get the excited response from him. The one that makes me feel like a goddess. So if 100 people tell me I look like shit, I know I go home and my husband can’t wait to rip my clothes off. At the end of the day his opinion is the only one that matters to me.
What if you don’t have a significant other? How do you get past that then? Surround yourself with people who are positive and cheering for you. I walk in the door at work and these girls compliment something about me every single day. And we do that because we love each other. We lift each other up. We want the other to be happy.
If you don’t have friends or relatives in your circle building you up and supporting you then definitely find a new circle. Stop letting “someone” determine your life and your happiness. Surround yourself with positivity and love. And if you can’t, BE positivity and love. If you see someone out that’s heavy and wearing a romper, give them a mental high five for daring to live without rules. Ignore how the outfit looks on them. That person is bravely fighting a war against social acceptability and a war to love ourselves. And they may not even know it!!!
Y’all I stress this stuff so greatly because at NINE years old my daughter has expressed her own self hatred. My heart shattered into a million pieces. She’s a baby for one. For two, she got that directly from me. What the hell kind of lesson in life is that for her??? It’s time all of us band together and love ourselves. Love each other. Raise a generation that can confidently say “f*ck someone and their rules because I’m happy being me”.