See, dresses and skirts are my thing. Always have been. I'm not a pants girl. I'm just not.
For almost two weeks I've been "venting" on Facebook about my plight and strategizing how I'm going to create a skirt that will defy the laws of physics and allow me to pursue inner peace without compromising my admittedly minimal standards of modesty and femininity.
It was getting kind of silly--but fun--my friends were apparently deeply invested in how this would turn out. Finally my cherished friend and yoga expert Christie posted on my Facebook wall, "Just buy a pair on these."
|"Hey, those pants are kind of cute. If they make that model's size 4 behind look good, |
they will surely make my size 12 behind look that good too!"
And maybe it was the logo or maybe it was the company name, but she had planted a seed and I didn't know it.
Because yesterday, while standing on my yoga mat in class, staring at myself in the mirror and negatively judging my outer beauty, the yoga started kicking in and it hit me: I have wasted two full weeks of precious emotional energy being bothered by something completely benign. They're just PANTS. I've let my personal identity distract me from practicing the detachment that would prevent PANTS from being an issue.
SO--I'm letting it go. I'm going to make myself a few pairs of cute pants, and maybe a couple of funky tunics, and I'm going to go to yoga and accept that while I'm there, I'm not a "dress" girl or a "pants" girl, I'm just a human doing my best and trying to let that permeate the rest of my day.
There. Enlightenment achieved. For now.