Underwear Shopping - Friend or Foe?
There are a few things on my "Avoid at all Cost" list. Putting my hand in a fish tank full of piranhas, eating a 3-month old opened package of hot dogs, being blindfolded while crossing a busy intersection, and going underwear shopping.
Many times have I walked past a lingerie shop window, looking dreamily at the underwear on the mannequin. Sometimes when I am brave (because just that morning, I easily slipped into one of my sometimes-they-fit-me pair of pants), I boldly walk into the store and ask the shopkeeper to find my size. Okay, maybe I find my own size because I am too embarrassed to admit to someone else what exactly is my size.
As I walk to the change room, I have high hopes the underwear will make me look sleek, busty and beautiful, just like the super model pictured in the window.
First, while in the change room, I have to scrunch my own underwear to fit under the new underwear. This is especially hard if I am wearing my very ugly but very comfortable cotton-grandma-panties (only worn if my husband will not see me that day).
Second, I ignore the harsh and absolutely non-flattering lights that are located in the change room. I believe these lights were intentionally manufactured to zone in and pick up any microscopic flaw on the body.
Third, I look at myself with the underwear on. This is where things can get messy. Like many women, I have a love/ hate relationship with my body. I have had a pear-shaped body and cellulite on the backs of my legs since I was 13 years old. This means I have had 22 years to get used to the fact that I have a pear-shaped body and cellulite on the back of my legs.
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But really, there is no logic when it comes to underwear shopping. The emotional side comes out in full force. All I can see are all the things that are wrong about my body. No matter how pretty the underwear. No matter that I am a size 8. No matter that there are some really great aspects to my anatomy. I can only focus (obsess would be a more appropriate word) on the few things that are not "perfect".
Next comes the tape recorder in my head with negative self-talk. "What is the use in buying the underwear when I look fat and ugly? How could I possibly be sexy to my husband looking like this? Why do I not go and hide under a rock and never punish any other human being by having them look at this horrible excuse of a body." Okay, okay, I'm not that bad.
Inevitably, I give the underwear back to the shopkeeper, too deflated to purchase the beautiful garment. I resolve never to put myself through that again.
Underwear shopping friend or foe? I am not so certain it is the underwear that is the culprit to all of my angst. Sexiness is not a state of body but a state of mind. A confident, playful, and devil-may-care sexy attitude will overrule flabby thighs (or stomach, or arms, etc.) any day of the week.
Therefore, I have two choices every time I look at my almost naked body too critically in the mirror because I do not match up to what society pushes down my throat as appropriate. I can beat myself up for not being perfect: or I can accept my body as it is.
I might as well accept myself because it is not like I am going to grow big breasts and slim hips in the near future. I can feel good in knowing that I make a conscious effort to take care of myself by eating properly, exercising regularly and keeping my mind active.
The other side is how gosh darn selfish I become when I am like this. For example, I never ask my husband if he likes the underwear. It is a shame really. If I could get past my self-destructive ways, I would find that my husband is not looking at my flaws. He is only looking at the wonderful stuff about me.
As well, when I am too wrapped up in all of this craziness, it does not allow the sexy side of me to come out and play. Insecurities, in general, push people away instead of letting them get close. Pushing people away isolates. It is a negative life-loop that way too many women fall victim to.
After thinking it through, I defiantly went back and purchased that great pair of underwear. A new state of mind and a new pair of lacies. It does not get much sexier than that.
Dr. Trina E. Read, Sex Expert. Expertise: Your Sex Makeover: For the Super-Busy Woman
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