During Woman’s History Month, I started to look back at defining moments that reflect on who I am now.
When I get ready in the morning, it takes me a while to decide what I am gonna wear. I try on outfit after outfit, and yet I always land on wearing a dress. Many people are known for their style, which is an expression of who they are, so if you were to ask anyone of my friends what my style is, they would say something about dresses. However, my relationship with clothing is not always positive, mostly because of my insecurities that cloud my judgment and my preconceived notions about how I am supposed to dress.
When I was little, my mom dressed me in the most sparkly pink dresses, and I absolutely adored them. There was so much joy in my life because of those dresses. In middle school, it seemed that it was not “cool” to wear dresses. Sporty attire and being athletic in general was the “cool” thing to do. I wanted to be seen as that girl, so I took a step back from my dresses and tried every sport under the sun, even though I am quite literally the most uncoordinated person you will ever meet.
As I was trying to dress sporty and casually, I felt out of place, anxious, and uncomfortable in my own skin. This only got worse when I realized my height and body shape were not like everyone else’s. For a while, I lived a lie that I could be someone I am not, which sounds stupid because I am just a girl and these are just clothes but let’s be honest – what you choose to wear is a reflection of your identity and denying what you want to wear is denying a part of that identity.
And then there was a turning point for me – I remember sitting in my freshman science class filled with boys, and one of them said, “You’re bigger than most of the guys in here,” which was not said maliciously or to shame the size of my body. It was a fact that I was taller than most guys because I was 5’11 when they were just starting to really grow. This one sentence sent me on a journey to make myself look so “girly” that I would never be compared to a boy again.
Now, this might seem incredibly sad, but I started to remember why I wore dresses. I felt comfortable in them, and I felt my best in them. I could throw on a dress with my favorite shades of pink and printed flowers on them and dream I was running through a forest. For the first time since I was younger, I actually felt like myself, and like I belonged in my own body.
Now I am the girl with her dresses. The girl who wears bright colors and florals that flow. To think I found myself in dresses again because of a comment about my body seems bittersweet but, in all honesty, I take that moment, and I apply it to my everyday life – when you look at the insecurities in yourself, look deeper for who you truly are and what truly makes you happy.