I posted this story a couple of years ago on FB, but was recently reminded of the experience while shopping. Over the last six months I have changed my eating habits, trying to break decades of bad habits. I have never made it more than a week on a diet, but this time my focus is about health and not appearance, although I have slowly lost some weight as a side benefit. It is amazing how age and health can motivate you! So, six months later, my clothes are beginning to bag and sag in solidarity with my body. I found myself forced to update my closet. As I tried on new clothing potentials, I caught myself avoiding the fitting room mirror. I had to remind myself that I do not want to be THAT woman.
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Shopping is my least favorite activity, especially shopping for clothes. I’ve never understood my friends who view this as entertainment; for me it has always been a necessary evil.
Last week I was shopping for heat-wave-tolerant clothing when I noticed a woman slightly older than me. She was modeling a dress for her adult daughter, “Do you like it?” “Is it too tight?” “Should I try this other dress?” The distracted daughter, attempting to hold firm to a squirming toddler while pacifying a cranky infant in the stroller replied, “Sure, Mom, maybe you should try something else.” The older woman looked dejected. I understood. As we both trudged into fitting rooms, the woman decided to strike up a conversation with me (another of my least favorite activities – conversations with strangers, especially conversations conducted through dividing walls such as those in fitting rooms or restroom stalls). To make the situation worse, the woman was crying.
Our conversation went something like this:
Woman: “I can’t find anything that looks nice.”
Me: “Oh.” (I’m not kidding, I really don’t like these situations.)
Woman: “The first dress I tried-on was not meant for a woman my age.”
Me: “I understand.” (And I did.)
Woman: “My daughter didn’t like the last dress I tried on; I don’t know what I am going to do.” More sobbing. “I like this dress but look at me…” (I couldn’t because I didn’t have my clothes on and we didn’t know each other THAT well.) “… look at my turkey neck. My neck is flopping over the dress.”
Now the sobbing intensified.
Me: (Breaking out of my comfort zone.) “Are you shopping for a special occasion?” (Stupid question. What woman would torture herself like this for no reason?)
Woman: “Mmm…my son. My son is getting married (sniff, sniff) he is so happy (sob, sob) and we love her, too.”
Me: “Wonderful.”
Woman: “Yes, it would be, if I could find something to wear that didn’t show my sagging butt, my drooping boobs or make my turkey neck even more noticeable than it is.”
Me: “I am sure that you will look fine.”
I took the coward’s way out. What I wanted to say was:
“Then I think it’s a fair trade. Your son is marrying the woman he loves and who loves him in return. To top it all off, you have two beautiful grandchildren and a daughter who is willing to bring them in-tow just to help you shop for this special occasion. A sagging butt, a pair of drooping boobs and a turkey neck is a small price to pay.”
Of course, I did not say this. But as I stood there and examined my reflection in the mirror, I noticed my own turkey neck that is in competition with my double chin and my upper arms that have begun their own personal campaign to wave to people without my permission. My body does not look the same as it did 30+ years ago, but neither does my life. In these years, I have married and together with my husband have enjoyed watching our son grow, each stage of his life more wonderful than the previous, and the previous was always delightful. I have friends who color my life; I enjoy a career that gives meaning to my existence; I have grown in my community and have grown even more in my faith. I have experienced the joys of watching my siblings as they age and I have been given time to know my parents through the eyes of an adult child.
Standing in the fitting room, evaluating the results of time, it seems unfair to begrudge my waving arms or my double turkey neck. I chose to celebrate with thanksgiving the opportunity to live a full life. Let my ever-changing body be a testament to all I have been given.
This is going to be mandatory reading before any shopping trip.
Why is it we have to be reminded we are good, just as we are? Thank you!!