Perfect imperfections

I went shopping yesterday and this trip was unprecedented in the fact that I went alone, and with no security blanket of shared self deprecating humor, faced a fear.

 My big Dirty Thirty is looming and I was gifted a gift card to Belk (a department store that is native to the southern states) and I decided what better way to start my vacation than with a little shooping cardio?

I made my selections and made my way to the dreaded fitting rooms, I mean come on major department stores, can we get some non iridescent lighting? I digress.

The fitting room has always been, as Ron Burgundy so eloquently put it, A GLASS CASE OF EMOTION. The harsh lighting, confined space, mirrors everywhere and don't even get me started on the fitting rooms that have the shutter doors.

It takes all your imperfections and magnifies them ten fold. The only thing that would make the situation acceptable is John Legend personally serenading me and telling me how much he loves " all my perfect imperfections." But we all can't be Chrissy T can we?

I have a ritual before I have to go shopping, I do hair, I shave legs and apply my war paint, for I am about to ride in to battle. And this time I rode in, sweaty, hair thrown up, bare faced and I did something I have never done before. I stood before the three faced mirror, in my skivvies and just looked.

Really looked.

And I made it out alive, I didn't turn to stone, I didn't make myself sick and dare I say I didn't hate what I saw. I have never stood still and really looked myself over before, up until that moment I usually avoid full length mirror at all costs. I couldn't have even told you what I really look like without clothes on.

I turned and faced myself from all angles and ladies, it made me feel so at peace.