My side of the store

I wear a dress and hat ensemble twice a year.

Here

And here

I prefer the latter to the former.  It reflects my favorite holiday and my personality, to an extent (a big extent).  Plus, I have a matching cape that's not pictured above – a cape! – and who doesn’t love a cape? Amiright?

However, it is spring in the Greater Louisville area and so I indulge the former in order to support Kentucky Derby-related festivities. Once a year, I dress like a proper lady to attend a brunch and fundraiser for charity.

Which entails springtime dress shopping. [Note: black capes never go out of style, yet another plus for Halloween]  I picked up the dress in the top photo and another on my latest excursion. Two pretty, summery, sleeveless things in pastel colors. Girly stuff.  I picked up little coordinating cardigans for each so I can have some coverage for my big-girl arms and also because I am utterly addicted to cardigans (Seriously, it's an issue with me. I am cardigan crazy. It's my uniform. I feel nekkid without a cardi).

[Note: much as I love a cardi, it is still not as a cool as a cape]

I am over-the-moon happy to have purchased these dresses because I rarely buy dresses … because I do not generally look good in them. Dresses tend to look like maternity clothes on me. I am 44 and decidedly not pregnant, so maternity? That's not the look I am going for.

So I found what I wanted. And they fit. And I could afford them – and matching cardis (addict!).

I went on this lunchtime shopping excursion a couple of weeks ago, accompanied by two other ladies. When the three of us walked in the dress shop together, two of us headed over to the left (plus-sized department) and the other, to the right (regular sizes). My plus-sized companion playfully made the comment to our regular-sized cohort along the lines of, "Oh look at you getting to shop on that side of the store." As in, I wish I could shop on that side of the store.

Her words hit me in a way that I know she didn't intend when she said them. I told her, "I am happy to shop on this side of the store." I meant it as encouragement, as in, Please like and accept yourself and know that it’s OK to shop on this side of the store because beautiful clothes are here and you are beautiful.  

I am a large woman. I have weighed much more and I have weighed much, much less. But my weight - dress size, side of the store I shop on, number of chins - has nothing to do with my intelligence, talent, wit, confidence, happiness, satisfaction, relationships, or beauty. My health is good and I am always striving to do better for myself and set a good example for my son. I have a healthy sense of humor about my weight, but please understand that to know me is to know that I do not pine to be smaller. Skinny is not an aspiration for me. Healthy, yes. Thin? Not necessarily. I am comfortable in this skin, no matter how much of it there is.

I realize that not all women feel that way about themselves or about large women, and that is their burden to bear. I once sat in a group session where a woman confessed her greatest fear in life was getting fat.

Me?

... in no particular order ... Being buried alive. Fiery death. Falling into a pit of snakes. A spider laying eggs in my ear. Finding an alligator under my bed. That the odd smell in my car has an organic origin.

You get the idea.

All of us - large, small and in between - have insecurities. We can change our appearance, but doing so won’t change who we are on the inside. So, no, I’m not afraid of being fat. But I am afraid of being consumed by insecurity to the point that I don’t appreciate the love and acceptance others have for me. Just as I am.

So I will wear my new dresses with confidence. Even though they came from the plus-sized side of the store.

And even if they didn’t come with capes.