Today I dressed up. Well, I wore a dress and my new sandals rather than my usual scruffy shorts, t-shirt, jandals.
The special occasion:
Bloody Good Chap’s arrival today in Byron Bay.
As soon as I put the dress on, WOW did I want to get changed! I noticed myself look in the mirror and think, shit, I look quite nice. I should change out of this, people at the coworking space will notice.
My mind set off to predict the judgements of others as I walked into the space.
The wife of the owner would look at me coldly thinking I was trying to impress her husband.
The chicks in the space would judge me for trying too hard.
The dudes would check out my non existent boobs.
I’ve always had a thing about making sure no chicks feel threatened by me for some reason, even when completely unfounded. Especially ones with boyfriends. I think it’s a trying-to-fit-in thing. And somehow I’ve come to believe that the majority of females are jealous and territorial, so to make sure I never cross them, I’ve pretty much never made friends with any dudes who are in a relationship. I avoid at all costs. Such odd behaviour, now that I’m writing it out loud.
Since I pretty much never make myself look feminine or dressy, BGC loves it when I wear a dress, any dress! Even if it’s a potato sack of a dress he comments on how nice I look, just because I’m not wearing shabby shorts or jeans or yoga pants!
So I decided to make a bit of effort to surprise him. Lucky BGC! Hahaha.
In the dress I felt exposed, feminine and vulnerable. I hated it.
I put my shorts and t-shirt back on. Then realised I’d been triggered, and decided to sit through the trigger and see what happened. Back out came the dress.
I even heard my mind say “maybe I just won’t iron it so it doesn’t look too nice”. Gotcha Neville, out came the iron.
The dress I’m wearing is nothing to write home about, as you can see. It’s simple, not too schnazzy, definitely not out of ordinary. Cotton, not sequins, and not even very short.
But it makes me feel SO self conscious.
It was in writing the post on Monday that made me really realise why I constantly dress down to try to blend in and look like a relatable, down to earth chick.
I have always strived to be seen as respected and chilled, one of the “boys,” cool, you know, not trying too hard, and not too noticed. Because I was very uncool at high school, I always hated when people’s eyes were on me. So I learnt to blend in. Don’t get me wrong, I still spent lots of time fake tanning and straightening my hair and slathering on mascara, but then I’d mess my hair up a bit and wear average clothes so I looked like I hadn’t tried.
It was brought home to me by another friend who I went out for dinner with a couple of weeks back. He commented “wow, you look great”, just because I had my hair straightened and wasn’t wearing Chuck Taylors for once. Really? I asked, surprised, I was only wearing jeans and a woolen jumper.
“Yeah he said, you so rarely make an effort!” I laughed, he was right.
I decided to write about my experience because I bet I’m not the only one that hides, either from insecurity or from fear of judgement of looking too sexy/ too slutty/ too try hard/ too whatever.
Put on something nice tomorrow. Notice what your mind says, what freak-out emotions might come up. And do it anyway.
With this realisation, I’m deciding to make more effort with my appearance for a few weeks and see if I can lessen my trigger response. BGC will be stoked!
I challenge you to join me
– dress nice for a week, let’s see how we go!
It’s your job to shine, to be your best, to feel your best, and to give your best to everyone and everything.
