If you follow me on Instagram you know that Mondays are my favorite day of the week. They are a fresh start. But not this Monday. I slept through my alarm and missed my GPP class (off-brand cross-fit) at the gym.
After doing my exercises a little later, I dropped Finn off at pre-school. I got some work done, and then I had time to kill. I thought to my self “I should try on some bathing suits!”
First, I went to Zumiez because, apparently, I am a teenager. I grabbed a few Medium tops that I thought were so cute on the hanger. Unfortunately, that’s the only place they were cute…
In the dressing room, the mirror taught me a lot. I learned that medium in Zumiez size is NOT medium. While I know bikinis are revealing, this very small medium bikini revealed more than I could have imagined. It revealed the marks of a long cold Idaho winter. My skin was luminescent. It also revealed my mom battle scars- loose skin and stretch marks.
My confidence deflated. The negative thoughts poured in.
“I hate my stomach”
“So much loose skin”
“Look at that muffin top”
“You’re not working hard enough”
I walked out of the dressing room. The attendant asked, “How did it go?” I said “Nothing fit” and left.
I went on to The Buckle and found a cute top, but no bottoms. At least their sizes were more realistic.
I went to Old Navy. I knew they had high waisted to cover up my unflattering features.
The thoughts got worse and worse.
I left Old Navy and sat on the bench. I had a little chat with myself.
“I am strong”
“I am healthy”
“I have had two babies come out of my body”
“I can do amazing things”
“I have worked so hard and come so far”
No, I didn’t say these out loud, just in my brain. Just wanted to clarify ?
I called up my friend on Marco Polo. I vented. It helped…for a little bit.
When I get upset, I want to eat. That night I had romantic longings for Adams Peanut Butter. I couldn’t stop thinking about him…I mean it. After an emotional eating binge, I felt even worse about my self. The next few days weren’t great either, given the constipation.
At the end of the day, I shared my thoughts with my amazing, kind, funny husband who listened, made me laugh about it and shake it off. Not only that, but he held no resentment against me for the affair I had with Adam.
It’s strange how even when something is true about your self, your mind can refuse to believe it. On Monday, the lies won.
I’m not going to make up some sappy saying that smooths over these very real problems. I don’t have an answer that makes these feelings go away. I share this story to let you know you are not alone when you have negative thoughts about yourself in the dressing room.
And while I lost a battle on Monday, I am determined to win the war. Some days just go like that and it keeps us real.
And I got rid of Adam.