(from the October edition of The Family Magazine)
I have been giving a lot of thought recently to the reason
behind things. For example, why would
someone complain about EVERYTHING on Facebook?
Or, why would someone yell at a cashier at Target for seemingly no
reason at all?
I will admit, there are days when my patience has worn thin
from some incident in the morning with my daughter that will filter to an
interaction with someone at the grocery store or in traffic.
This got me to thinking about the ladies who attend my
StyleU workshops. Over the past several months, I’ve had the pleasure to offer
this workshop across the Midwest. I’ve met some ladies who I am sure have more
style than I do, yet they attend my workshops. Why?
Why do we dress the way we do? Is it a costume? A way to cover something up or distract
attention? Do we want to be known as the one that always wears red
lipstick? Why? Or are we the ones who
purposely don’t wear anything memorable in the hopes that we can kind of fade
away and not be noticed? Why?
I met a woman recently who shared the following story. I
would like to share it with you and ask you to consider what are you doing to
cover yourself?
For years I dressed to
impressed. You would never see me
outside of my bedroom without full makeup, hair done and 3” heels. Never. Even
on family vacations when ‘hiking’ was on the agenda, I would don my most
precious jewels and do my best to not sweat off my lipstick and face powder.
It was my “thing”. I
felt like that is what I became known for. I was the lady who was always ‘done’.
Dressed to a ‘T’. It became how I defined myself. I loved the compliments I
would get at luncheons on my shoes, my handbag or my outfits. I would get into
lengthy conversations with people about where I shopped, how I pulled together
various outfits. The conversations at the time seemed very meaningful and I
referred to those I had these interactions with as my friends. But in truth,
they knew nothing about me. They didn’t know where I went to school, the names
of my children or really what I did for a living. All they knew was that I wore
Chanel lipstick and had a great handbag I got at a thrift shop in Chicago.
Through a series of
life detours, I was forced to change. The change in my life led me to be in a
situation where I could no longer afford to shop. I could no longer afford to
buy the best makeup, have my hair and nails done monthly or pay for the best
skin care regimen. My new “normal” wasn’t comfortable at all to me. There were
days when I would literally sit in my apartment and sob because I had to go to
a business meeting wearing something that didn’t fit properly with hair that
was about 4 weeks past needing to be “done”.
This annoyed me. Why was I so hooked up on those things that I
thought defined me? Was I really a red Chanel lipstick? A pair of pearls and 3”
heels? And if THAT was me, who was I?
What did that mean?
I soon realized that in
the photos taken of me in this new phase of life, I looked different, better. I
was receiving compliments; complete strangers would stop me on the street and
tell me how beautiful I was. This was
remarkable to me given it would be on days when I was wearing no makeup and my
hair was in a ponytail.
How strange. People
complimenting me on ME and not my things.
Could it be that for so
many years I was hiding behind the clothes, makeup and accessories? Trying to cover up and mask some kind of ugly
truth I didn’t want anyone to see? Yes, that is exactly what I did. I was
horribly unhappy for many years. Very sick, an illness no one knew about. I was
covering the truth about myself with all the clothes, jewelry, shoes, handbags,
makeup. Looking back on it, I probably
looked ridiculous. More like a Christmas tree than a business woman.
Although I was forced
to rid myself of those ‘things’, I can say (now that I am on the other side of
it), it was the best forced life-change that has ever happened to me. Now
people see me. The real me. Yes, I still
love to get dressed up and appreciate great makeup. But people see me through
all the decoration. They don’t get hung up on all my stuff and forget there is
a women behind it all.
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