Going shopping for clothes after eating Mexican food is really not my idea of a good time. I wind up berating myself for those tortilla chips if something doesn't fit. But we were out to lunch as a family (all of us but my brother), and I think Mom wanted to prolong that togetherness. So I went, found a couple of deals at Goodwill before hitting the mall.
I took a pair of pants to the dressing room and overheard a conversation (you? You, Lisa, eavesdropping? Yes. I confess). It was a mother and a daughter in adjacent dressing rooms.
Daughter: Well, by then I'll have lost some pounds.
Mom: Honey, that's not very much time.
Daughter: I will.
Mom: Let me tell you, you don't need to.
A few minutes later:
Daughter: How does this look?
Mom: It looks really good, honey, it looks good.
Daughter: Would you even be honest with me? If it looked bad.
Mom: Yes, honey, and I'm telling the truth. It's a very flattering top.
Ah, memories. Because six, seven years ago I was that girl. Every time I stood in a dressing room I rued the size I had to wear. When I read about "vanity sizing" I felt shitty because those small sizes still weren't fitting me. I loved anything that made me look thinner. I thought how much better things would be if I actually were thinner.
As they were leaving the mother got a phone call:
Mom: Yeah ... yeah, I don't know if we'll make it. Oh, he told you? Yeah ... I've just got to lose ten more pounds and then I'll be happy.
Will you? Maybe. Maybe that ten pounds will give you the self-confidence you've been looking for. Maybe it will make you feel healthier, fitter. But is it going to make you happy? Or do you need something else and you haven't realized it yet?