My stomach ached. I was perspiring. My breath came in shorter, faster bursts. I thought about leaving. My chest was tight. What put me in this physically distraught circumstance?
Clothes shopping.
I have not bought new clothes in about two years. I am at the heaviest I have ever been in my life, and I didn't want to buy anything new until I lost weight. So I've been wearing old clothes that are too tight or maternity clothes. But I'm going on a girls trip this weekend, and I needed something cute and comfortable to wear.
I've never been a fan of clothes shopping, but it's never bothered me before, either. I met a friend over lunch last week to get a new outfit for our trip. I got to the mall before she did, and had a mild anxiety attack in the department store. I've never had one before. Certainly not about clothes.
When she arrived, I chattered nervously to her, trying to hide my paranoia. (Who gets freaked out about shopping?) All I could think about was that nothing was going to fit, and nothing would look nice on me, because I'm not a very good version of myself right now. It made me so sad, I didn't want to shop.
As we wandered through the sale racks and grabbed tops and pants, I forced myself to take deep breaths, to calm down. At one point, I literally thought to myself, "Just. Be. Enough." I felt a little silly about it at first. Then, empowered. "This is exactly what Elena is talking about," I thought. "This is what I'll write my post about."
No, I'm not the size I was five years ago. I need to continue to strive to be better - eat better, exercise more, take better care of myself - but I also need to recognize the worth of who I am now, too. I am a woman. And I am enough.
