This is a story about shoes and makeup but it's really not
just about shoes and makeup.
If you're wondering what this has to do with yesterday's post, keep reading.
You'll see.
I have always loved to wear high heels, more dressy and feminine clothes, and more vibrant colors of eye shadows and such. I don't know how good of a fashionista I've actually been in the past, but as far as I can remember, I've enjoyed dressing up and being somewhat stylish.
So when Seth and I first met, what I described above is how I dressed
all the time. And when I say
all the time, I mean ALL THE TIME. As in, I didn't own one pair of casual tennis shoes- even for working out- and I didn't own any flats (including cute flats). I always had to be in heels and I very very very rarely left the house without being done up. My individuality was a significant part of my life and I felt that fashion was a way that I could express my personality.
So Seth and I started seeing more and more of each other. Obviously he liked what I had going on because his interest never let down.
As it typically goes in any relationship, the more time we spent together, the more we learned about one another.
It didn't take long for me to realize that Seth was more of a jeans, tee shirt, and tennis shoe kind of guy: for himself and the ladies in his life. It's safe to say that he had a preference for the more casual, laid back, and natural looking woman: free of wedge shoes, hairspray and smokey eyeshadow.
Of course he was never rude and of course he never
ever told me to change what I was wearing or how much make up I wore, but as time moved on, it was obvious that he thought I'd look cute in a v-neck tee and Chuck Taylor's. On the days I'd wear less make up, I noticed that he'd make genuine comments about how fresh I looked and how I didn't need all that other stuff.
Slowly but surely, as the months began to pass and Seth and I started spending all of our time together, I did what felt natural for the relationship: I began ditching the makeup, the heels, the ruffly clothes, and blingy accessories for a more subtle, natural looking me.
I mean, this is what my man liked, so why would I do anything different?
Right?
But one day, not too long ago, I walked into my closet, looked at my shoe and shirt selections and realized something big.
Where are all of my high heel shoes that I love?
Where are all of the shirts that I felt really feminine and sexy and pretty in?
The sad thing is, the didn't just disappear. I knew exactly where they were. They were gone. All at the local donation center.
In the course of two years, I had weeded out everything that I thought Seth wouldn't like and I replaced it all with stuff that I thought he would like better.
My zebra stiletto's had been replaced with keds.
I sat on my closet floor and replayed the last 2 years. As I sifted through it all, I landed on the answer being that for some reason or another, it just felt like it was the right thing to do;
morph into a perfect mold for what he liked.
Be the perfect girl for him.
(Now, it's really really really REALLY important to note that Seth had no idea I was doing this.
None. He never made me feel like I had to do anything and he was never apart of my closet binges. And he honestly didn't care enough about what I was or wasn't wearing to take notice of what was missing in my closet. He's a normal guy, I'd say ;)
So here goes why it's all relevant.
After many hours of therapy with
Maurice the last 3 long years,
we finally came to the conclusion that I am a fantastic dance partner. I can go with the flow, move fluidly to another beat, and fit right into another person's choreography. I can follow the lead with ease; a trait that has positive and negative aspects.
I have found myself always trying to "be" what everyone else wants me to "be".
I have had the tendency to go against what
I really want in order to please everyone else around me.
A few nights ago, Seth and I started talking about all of this.
About why I do this.
About why I care so much about what everyone else wants me to do or "be".
About why I tend to be such a great dance
partner.
About why I've changed my wardrobe and style almost completely, when he's never asked me to, or expected me to.
"
I do it for you" I said.
"Why would I dress any other way than the way that you prefer? If you tell me you like tenni's, tee shirts, and less makeup, that's what I'm going to do. I do it for you."
He sat there a minute.
"Okay, Jace, I get where you're coming from... sort of.... but how about you dress the way you want to dress because it's what YOU like? What YOU feel comfortable in? What YOU think is cool? Sure I think some things are cuter than others, but that's just normal interaction. It'd be weird if we both liked all the same things- there'd be no room for individualism. It's like we'd be the same person. It's okay if we have differences of opinion, Jacy. That's what makes us unique." he said.
I sat there.
"Well, I do it for you."
Trying to piece it all together Seth questioned,
"Is it really just a selfless motive, Jacy? Are you really doing this ALL for me? Or is there some sense of wanting to be loved and accepted? Like, I won't love and accept you if you wear shimmery eyeshadow and pointy pumps?"
I sat there, my shoulders slumped over.
"No, I do it for you." I sarcastically chuckled,
"This has nothing to do with wanting to be accepted or loved. This is because I want to make you happy, because it's what you like."
The conversation slowly fizzled out from there. It was growing late and we were both tired.
That night, however, I laid in bed tossing and turning in our uncomfortably warm room.
I thought about it.
And thought about it.
And thought about it.
Was I subconsciously changing my dress in effort to be loved and accepted?
No way I thought.
No way. That's just down right ridiculous.
I thought about it more.
And more.
Tick tock. Tick tock.
In the quiet still of the night, I had this aha moment.
What if there IS some truth to that?
What if there IS actually an element of wanting to be loved and accepted here?
If I'm not dressing in the form that he prefers, then he won't like me anymore. He won't find me sexy, or attractive, or pretty. Thus, he'll be disappointed in me.
And what happens if he doesn't find me sexy, or attractive, or pretty anymore? What happens if he becomes disappointed in me?
He'll go looking elsewhere.
And no matter who he finds, I'll end up being the person that he didn't want. Because I wasn't good enough. Because I was second fiddle. Because for some reason or another, I could have been different. I could have done things to prevent it.
I laid my head on my memory foam pillow and had a hard time falling asleep that night. Visions from my past danced in my mind. I gently rolled over and saw my sweet Seth sleeping peacefully. I studied his profile in the darkness of the night and then I thought to myself,
This isn't about a style of shoe, or how much foundation I apply, or if my shirt has extra lace on it... and this has absolutely nothing to do with S..... this has everything to do with me.
This is a result of my past experiences.
This is a result of feeling secure and confident and on top of the world in one day, and in the next, everything completely changes and life is so not what you thought it was.
This is a result of being hit by a piano.
The next morning I woke up feeling refreshed, yet a little sad, at my new discovery; the devastating reality that I had allowed my past to change apart of who I was-- out of my own fear. Fear that I wouldn't be deemed as good enough.
That very morning I walked into my closet and decided that I was going to really work on something:
I was going to intensely challenge myself to work on becoming my OWN version of me. I mean, I thought I was already there... but apparently, I am not- far from it actually. I am still kicking off the mud that was splattered on me those years ago. I am still peeling off the sticky residue that comes with being in this club.
I am now realizing that it is possible to be a cooperative dance partner whilst keep my own unique style at the same time. And by style I don't just mean fashion- I mean everything that makes me, me. I need to be able dance with ease, without fearing that, for some reason or another, I won't be good enough. I need dance comfortably in both my stiletto's and New Balances because I like them both. I need to showcase my bright red lips when I'm feeling bold and I also need to be unashamed of my imperfections. I need to dance with pride and confidence because I've worked really hard on this routine. This is my life...
I am me... and the most important person for me to be is
MY OWN.
**THOUGHTS TODAY?? Please share. I'm so interested to know if you can relate? Or maybe you've never felt this way?
