My little black outfit

I wore a short outfit. It was not that short… but short enough for some people to comment on it, disapprovingly. And it gave me anxiety – for a second. It also looked shorter than it really was in photos but that’s besides the point.

I wore it while in Vegas and while with my husband. It was approved and passed by husband level of comfort (whether I needed it or not is besides the point – I’m an independent woman, but I still respect my marriage enough to avoid doing things that make my husband uncomfortable).

Some background – I spend 99.9% of my life looking like a slob. I LOVE what I do and I’d pick it all over again a million times – but to make a point – I work graveyards, in a hospital, doing some really stressful work. I wear non-shape conforming scrubs, my hair is usually just thrown up in a mess, and my face doesn’t have an ounce of make up – or anything – on it. Nothing to cover up the dark circles, the baggy eyes, the horrible skin secondary to degree of stress and horrible sleep and eating patterns.

I spend 99.9% of my life feeling and being unattractive. And it doesn’t bother me because what I do holds so much meaning. I save lives every single day. But somewhere that 99.9% being unattractive has rooted itself somewhere in my subconscious. And it’s not a good feeling. I also wasn’t raised to wear risqué clothing – so I don’t. And even this time, I didn’t.

But as a nearly 30 year old married woman, I’d want the world to allow me to draw my own boundaries. If my husband is ok with something, then I should be able to do whatever I need to do within those boundaries.

Women lose themselves in family life, in societal pressure. Women conform to expectations and fear gossip – then participate in gossip – and most spend their entire life forgetting to take care of themselves.

I’m not saying go out there and be a 110% skank (whatever that’s means). I’m not saying cross limits that your family is uncomfortable with. But alongside respecting your partner’s comfort level, and he (or other appropriate pronoun) respecting your need to do what you gotta do, find a middle ground wherein you can find time to feel good about yourself.

Is this blog superficial upon first glance? Yes. But so many people don’t realize how much mental effort goes behind accepting ones body during periods of change. Aging (losing ones youth). Pregnancy. Diseases. Medication. The list goes on. We should be confident in who we are – but that’s easier said than done. Truth is we are all vain, and while we might not show it, the thoughts of losing the body/image we are most confident in do engrain themselves in our subconscious, and negatively affect us.

I’m no different.

So yeah. I did wear a sort of short black outfit. Location was appropriate, and it was husband approved.

And for one night in a blue moon – I felt damn good strutting in it.

Sue me 🤷🏻‍♀️