Placing Importance on the Unimportant

Last Saturday, I found myself feeling a bit off the day before I was going to my friend’s baby shower. You know, those moods where you find yourself in a funk and just feel like you need a pick-me-up. I was in the midst of telling my fiancé that I wanted to get a new outfit to wear to the shower because I “didn’t have anything to wear” in my closet. He responded, “You don’t need new clothes You have some great clothes.” This prompted me to cue into myself and see what was really going on.

My old self-worth and social anxiety issues were roaring again. My friend is the type of girl who always looks phenomenal. She puts herself together perfectly… hair perfect, clothing perfectly coordinated, make-up on, etc. She hangs out with a group of four women who are all very much into their personal aesthetics. Clothing, hair, and makeup are all high on their priority list and they look great as a result of their efforts.

To put it in perspective, I’m usually not someone who cares very much about these things. Most days I’m comfy in jeans and a t-shirt or athletic wear… yoga pants and tank. I don’t wear make-up at all unless I’m going to a party, then it’s the very simple eye liner and mascara with a dot of concealer here and there to hide any blemishes I might have on my face that day. It’s only when I’m around these people that I suddenly start stressing about what to wear and how I look. When I cued into my emotions, I realized I was not being incredibly kind to myself. I was stuck in the game of trying to “fit in” or be someone I was not so that I could feel “good enough” about myself at this baby shower. There I was again in my pride… trying to prove I deserve to be there instead of owning who I am.

When I had this realization, I stopped in my tracks and decided to wear something that I’d already owned and just show up as me and that was already “good enough. I thanked myself for being self-aware and apologized to myself for sending messages that I was not good enough as I normally am and for putting so much weight into what I looked like to go to this place. I realized that I do the same to my daughter as I went out and got her a new dress for this shower. She may not recognize it, but now I can see that I’m sending the message that she must look a certain way to go to certain events and that how she looks is important. This is not the message I really want to ingrain in her.

I want her to have depth. I want her to know she is beautiful no matter what she has on. I want her to know that whether she has sweatpants or a ball gown on, it changes nothing. She is the one who makes the clothes. Her personal power, her kindness, her love, her compassion, her sense of humor, and her just being her is what makes anything that she adorns her body with shine. I don’t want her to feel that she needs to be something different or something more to be included. Yet, in that moment, I did that to myself and I don’t deserve that.

I ended up sitting at the table with these women and another couple of women who I know pretty well. I had a great time and my insecurity was comfortably at rest when I was there. I focused on “being there” and not in the stories within my head, simply staying in the moment and focusing on the here and now. Interestingly, the four women whom I nicknamed “the mod squad” (because they always look like high end fashion models and always seem to do everything together) left early and once they did I confessed to one of the women who I was friendly with in high school that I had  some anxiety about coming to the shower, but it turned out lovely. She admitted she felt kind of crummy that morning also and thanked me for being so honest about my own insecurity because she felt the exact same way. We laughed together about how silly our minds can be sometimes. It was really a blessing in a “me too” moment.

Even funnier, I received so many compliments on my appearance. I think it was the universe’s way of giving me a pat on the back for fighting back the insecurity and anxiety that threatened to overtake me the day before. I did not succumb to the quick (and temporary) fix of purchasing my emotions away with a new outfit to “make me feel good.” I did not allow anxiety or insecurity to rule me and stepped into my own worth laughing at the silliness of the situation and even admitting it to another. I stepped up and made myself larger and the insecurity and anxiety smaller by examining it, expressing it, and going against my initial instinct to “fix it.” (aka… make it stop) For this, I am proud of myself, because it signifies growth, willingness to see the parts of myself that still need some love, and the desire to give that love.

Have you ever done this to yourself? Why? Why do a lot of us have a hard time honoring who we are? They say “comparison is the thief of joy.” Do you agree? Why? Why not?

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *