Summer before last I bought a pair of shorts online that were the neonest of neon pink that you can imagine. They were also short. Like, not too short to be grotesque on a 43 year old mother with extra-rich thighs, but shorter than any shorts I’d donned up to that moment. I remember putting them on with a tee shirt of some kind to go to one of my kids’ games. As I departed my room, I stopped and had to have a gut check. Was I confident in these hot pants or was I pushing the envelope too far? I triple-checked my reflection and was not gagging which was a good sign. Still unsure, I asked the son whose game we were headed for if he was appalled by my appearance (kids are an amazing barometer for that – believe me – I’ve gotten plenty of “…Mom, is that what you’re going to wear?”). To my delight he was not appalled and while this may be revisionist history, I seem to recall him telling me I looked great. I certainly felt great.
There is a confidence I can only derive when I feel like I look amazeballs in my clothing. I don’t look amazeballs in my clothing right now. Most of it fits fine, but I lack the room to move that I like to have and to be completely frank some of it is snuggish and these are the size 12’s. Bugger, man. Just effing bugger.
Positive: I saved the shorts when put the Size 8 bag waaaaay back in the back of the attic. Interestingly, I did not save the Size 16s. Good thing I’m not quite there and by averting this crisis now, perhaps I won’t get closer.
Negative: It is going to take a lot of running not only to fit into those shorts, but to be able to pull them off. I’m not super confident that I can do it.
I’ve done this before and I can do it again. Can’t I?