When You Don't Know Who You Are

Today I went bridesmaid dress shopping with K2. This is something she should be eternally grateful for. I hate, hate hate hate hate HATE dresses. With a passion. And even more than dresses, I hate trying on dresses. Especially when the snide size zero clerk says, "Well... we don't have anything to fit... That." I'm not a that. I am a person. You're just jealous you'll never have boobs like a Playboy Bunny without thousands of dollars of cosmetic surgery. Yes, I could do without the rest, but really, calling me a THAT. So, so, so not cool. Not to mention pretty much the most self-esteem crushing, fastest-way-ever-to-make-someone-mildly-sucidial-deperesed thing that woman could have possibly said.

So I asked the Chief if he thought I was beautiful. Poor sucker. He, naturally and completely obligated, said yes, and asked why I asked. I explained, simply, that I went dress shopping with K2 and had a negative experience. To which he asked how I felt about it, what I wanted to do about blah blah blah.

I turned it around after I had answered and asked what HE thought, REALLY, of my body.

First his response was, "It's not my place." Always a good sign. I told him it was okay, to which he replied, "This is hard to answer. Like I like you the way you are. But I remember the you from five years ago..."

I asked for, and appreciated his honesty. I am lucky to have a man who is willing to tell me the truth, unfortunately he wasn't there to hold me while I bawled afterwards. God damn being a girl.

When I got home I looked at the picture from when we met. I mourned the loss of that person. And the piece of me that died a little realizing that I'm not her anymore. And comparing myself to... the other one. Yes, I know I can be that version of me again, but I'm not right now. And I'm certainly not the other one. And hearing someone you love tell you that is... motivating but equally painful and self-esteem crushing.

I look in the mirror and I don't know who I am right this minute. I don't recognize myself. The person I see in the mirror is not the person I see inside my head. It's not the same girl I think I am when I'm with the Chief, or with my friends, or at work. The person in the mirror, and the person who rarely jumps into pictures is not me. It's some... horrid, ugly person that is possessing me.

So tomorrow I'll go back to wearing baggy clothes that let me hide. I'll go back to wearing sweaters that cover my up skin. And tomorrow I'll start taking vitamins and drinking nothing but water. Tomorrow I'll start dieting, something like point counting or the like. And exercising more. More boxing. More jogging. More yoga. More sit ups. Just more of something else and less of who I am now.

Tomorrow. Here's to tomorrow.