I wandered around looking at lacy frilly things. I picked out one or two items to try on in the dressing room. I get into the dressing room, disrobe, and stare in complete horror at my reflection in the mirror.
Am I really that fat? Am I really that ugly? Do I look that bad wearing light turquoise? Do I look that bad wearing black? Do I look that bad even existing?
Even my long, dark hair which flows halfway down my back and which I know is beautiful, looked horrible in that dressing room. Even my bright smile looked dim and gnarly.
I tried on several items trying to focus on finding what I needed, bought my stuff, and ran out of there. Looking at myself in the mirror this morning, I concluded that the lighting in the women's dressing room at Nordstrom's in the San Francisco Centre is calculated to make you want to slit your wrists.
I spent the rest of the evening lamenting the fact that I, who used to be unique and pretty, had suddenly turned into disgusting troll. Who would love me? Who would even look at me? Will the people who are my friends and family still want to talk to me? Am I Medusa?
I got over it by settling in with the wonderful jacuzzi style footbath my brother got me for Christmas, sipping a cup of hot tea, and counting my blessings:
- Sure, my arms and legs are ugly as sin, but at least I have them.
- My eyes might look beady in those awful dressing room lights, but at least I'm not blind.
- I'm a smart girl. Really.
- I have a good job, good friends, and a family that loves me.
- I'm going to a BLACK TIE dinner for New Year's and I'm going even if I have to put a bag over my head.
- My dog loves me. So do the penguins.
- My feet are small, my hands are capable and I have great cleavage (when I feel like showing it).
- I do have beautiful long, dark hair. At least in the sunlight I do.
- I have very few wrinkles, although I have big "smile" lines.
Happy New Year's everybody and don't let the dressing room lighting get you down.