Hello, Shock. Thanks for the screaming changes of an idle Winter. You are the best. You and your accompanying Bile.
Hello, New Found Resolve. I have been looking for you. 'Bout time.
Hello, Kick in the Pants. What is that you say? It isn't all about the number on the scale? So true (you little bitch).
Hello, Mother Time. Really? Is it time for that much elasticity to be gone? You sure? Maybe rethink that while I put my cords back on. You can show me your change of heart in June. Please.
Hello, Irish Skin. I can't say anything to you because the emotion will make you even more blotchy so.....hope all is well.....
Hello, Cute Pair of Shorts. I will just place you back on the floor for the younger and athletic. My upper thighs are accosting my knees right now. This is a battle that should be waged privately.
Of course, having written all that, I know I am still a good person. I am not defined by the dressing room mirror (the most truest mirror in all the LANDS!!!!) I will still instill a healthy body image to my children. I have only 3 months of thigh suffering ahead. But for all the talk of how the media this, and the world skewed that- it doesn't matter when you are in the dressing room. My accomplishments remain. My good choices remain. My positive outlook on life remains. My blessings remain. My intelligence remains!
I am 100% female, after a long Winter, standing in a dressing room with a cute skirt on and thick wool socks (should have taken them off) and terrible lighting and a woman asking of I need a different size...and I am debating if I can pull off this next season with any bit of confidence.
And then I get dressed.
I shake it off.
And I buy some shoes because DAMN I look hot in a small, ankle height floor mirror.