Skinny Jeans

I have essentially been pregnant and/or breastfeeding since fall of 2006 (I had several years before that of the same but had a 3 year break after 2003).  While I am sad to be done with this stage of life, I am excited to be moving in to the next stage.  I am ready to be done with the baby-making, baby-nourishing, baby-wearing.  My body has not been MY body for a LONG time and I am ready to have MY body back. 

I am ready to lose the baby weight for GOOD!

Last week I only had one pair of pants that fit as the rest were too BIG!  Yay!  So I stopped at the store to find some new pants.  I tried on a pair and while they fit okay and looked good I wondered if I might be able to fit in the next size down.  Sure enough they fit, perfectly.  So exciting!!

Then for fun I thought I would try on a pair of skinny jeans.  I have said I would never wear skinny jeans.  I just didn't think I could ever look good in them.  But I was feeling brave (and thin) so I tried them on.  You know what?  I felt good in them.  I looked and felt thin.  I felt confident.  So I bought them.

I went home and put on the first pair of pants that I had purchased.  I was feeling good.  Thin and attractive.  I was looking forward to what Mr. Hopeful might say about how "good I looked" when he got home.

He said NOTHING. 

I was disappointed, yet still felt good about myself.  I will note that my mother-in-law and sisters-in-law all commented on how thin and cute I looked.

The next day I pulled out my new skinny jeans.  One sister-in-law (Lisa) commented on how cute and slimming they were, but no one else said a thing.  And that was alright because I felt good.  I felt confident in myself and how I looked.

We (MIL and the SILs) spent the morning shopping.  It was fun.  Lisa (SIL) and I have similar tastes and we both noticed a pair of colored skinny jeans that we thought would be fun to try on.  She tried them on and loved them so she sent a picture to her husband.  She put the pants in the cart and waited for his response.  Eventually he called and said "NO."  He didn't like skinny jeans.   She said, "If he would have said he liked them I would have bought them."  So she put them back. 

We went to another store (the store where I had purchased my skinny jeans) and MIL and another SIL decided to try on the same skinny jeans that I was wearing.  They both commented on how comfortable they were (they are SO comfortable) and how much they liked them.  MIL said she would purchase them and then ask FIL what he thought and bring them back if he didn't like them. SIL texted a picture to her husband and waited for his response.  He said "No.  They look uncomfortable."  So she put them back.

I could see how disappointed SIL was.  She really liked how comfortable the pants were.  She liked how she looked in them.

After seeing two SILs put pants that THEY liked back on the shelf because their HUSBAND didn't like the pants and MIL willing to bring them back if FIL didn't like them I decided to say something.

I said "I am to the point where I don't care if Mr. Hopeful does or does NOT like how I look.  I feel good.  I like the way I look and that is what matters.  I am comfortable in these pants.  I know it might sound harsh, but I am not going to let what he does or does not like rule my decisions." 

I also wanted to say, "I know that Mr. Hopeful has looked at and fantasized about other women wearing skinny jeans. He has NO place to say if I should or should not wear these pants or anything else."  But they don't know about his addiction.  So I kept those thoughts to myself. 

Although I did say to Lisa, "I was excited for him to see me in the pants I was wearing yesterday and you know what, he didn't say a thing.  He didn't notice.  I can't base how I feel about myself on whether or not he notices me and how I look.  If I feel good about myself and if I feel that I look good, then that has to be good enough for me."

Mr. Hopeful didn't comment on the skinny jeans until Lisa had me stand up to show her husband (brother-in-law) and BIL said that he liked them.  Only then did Mr. Hopeful say something. 

It hurts that he doesn't notice.  It hurts a lot!  However, I can't let that determine how I feel about myself.  Slowly, I am beginning to like how I look regardless of what he thinks--despite how much it hurts.  I am beginning to like me.  Because I am coming to know I am of worth.  I am MORE than what he (or anyone else) thinks or doesn't think of me.  I am MORE than what I think of myself.  The Lord didn't create anything that isn't beautiful.  I am beautiful in His eyes and that is what matters. (I need to repeat this to myself over and over because many days all I can see are my perceived physical flaws--pink skin, small chest, etc).