…And it has been sensational.
Once I hit 6th grade I filled out quickly, had a cute little tummy, and quickly learned my new booty didn’t love pants (especially the low-rise jeans that were in style. Yikes). I was 12 when I was first jokingly called thunder thighs. Her name was Colleen. She probably meant no harm. But I’ll never forget it. And that moment triggered years of being willing to try anything to be the petite person I thought I should be. I tried to sneak diet pills past my parents, paraded as a vegetarian to hide an eating disorder, ran and ran. But it never made me feel small enough.
And so, without really even thinking about it, I began dressing with the primary goal to look small. I knew the styling tricks, even stopped wearing most colors aside from black, and belted all the things. I thought To have style and to look good, you looked small. It was just what you do, right?
Until it wasn’t. I started finding myself leaning towards the way things made me feel and move rather than how they made me look: comfortable, feminine, flowing, and interesting. I’m not a trend person and comfort is far more important to me than it used to be. Frankly, I don’t want to wear a tight belt around my waist all day anymore just because it would be more flattering.
And I’ve never enjoyed clothes and styling more. So bring on the long shapeless dresses and puffy sleeves and loose, flowing tops. Me and my grandma chic ways are trying it all. Feeling beautiful and powerful and good in the clothes you wear shouldn’t be tied to how small they make you look.