The weather’s getting warmer here, and today we had a taste of the summer that is coming. I hate summer. It’s another reminder that I’m a freak. I can no longer get away with wearing a hessian bag. I was reminded of this fact when I heard the weather forecast this morning and looked despondently in my (new) wardrobe for some appropriate attire.
Alas, not much there. In part because I’ve gained weight, and in part because I’ve never really worn nice clothes. I’ve always been more comfortable in my hessian bag. My therapist says this is about not being noticed, and not being noticed as a “sexual being”.
Despite the fact that I still like the protection of my hessian bag, there’s a little part of me who’s sick of feeling like a slug and looking like a sack of potatoes.
Trouble is: I don’t really know what else to do. My mother always had a “that will do” attitude to her own appearance, and took a similar approach with mine. She never encouraged me to “dress up” or dress to look and feel good. I’m guessing because for most of my growing up years I was overweight, so when Dad wasn’t making nasty comments about how fat and ugly I was, my mother was saying, “you’ll have to wear that one then” – meaning the big and ugly one.
So I just don’t really know how to dress not to hide, let alone how to dress to feel and look good. I don’t know how to do skirts or dresses or high heels, let alone anything that’s comfortable in warm weather. I only really learned to do make up when I was about 25.
On my way to work I stared longingly at the clothing stores and the little summer dresses on display. Even if I had the courage to go into such a shop, I’d never try one on. Just the fear of it not fitting me would be enough to tip me over the edge.
So I stick with my hessian bag, and continue to feel like a slug and look like a sack of potatoes.