When I got dressed to go to therapy today, it looked like a lovely day, if a little on the chilly side. Autumn’s finally arrived, after that week of unseasonably warm weather, and I swear to god I nearly froze to death when I walked home last night.
Probably not the best idea to walk home, still sweating, in just a hoody. During the summer, yeah, but not now that it’s October. Next time? Proper coat.
But today, it looked lovely. It wasn’t raining; the sun was out. So I put on my pink dress, the one that I bought in Lane Bryant when I was on holiday, and the “new” brown boots that I’m absolutely in love with and have been trying to wear as much as I can, and my wee flowery jacket. I looked pretty decent for a change, instead of slouching around in cropped sweats and a t-shirt.
But despite the sunshine, it was bloody windy. I only noticed this when I went outside. If I’d known how windy it was, I’d have worn pants.
Then, after therapy, I realised:
“Oh crap, I have to walk home and I’m wearing a dress.”
You’d think this would have occurred to me earlier, but no.
So, walking home and having to hold the skirt of my dress down every time a larger-than-a-car vehicle drove past me so I wouldn’t flash anyone, and I still managed to flash someone anyway. The skirt went right up over my stomach, flipped over my butt at the back…
Mostly, I walked home holding the skirt down at the sides.
But that’s not why I hate my thighs. I’m trying not to care what other people think, so if they see my fat thighs, I’m trying not to care.
I hate my thighs because I wasn’t wearing pants, or shorts, or leggings, or anything other than my underwear, under my dress. I got seriously horrendous flashbacks to High School, when I used to wear a skirt and spend the day hating how my thighs got sweaty where they touched. Having to wear pants the next day because of the sore redness.
Or worse: the times I attempted to wear tights, and ended up with friction burn between my legs.
I wouldn’t have cared so much if I’d been wearing something beneath my dress, but do I think that far ahead? Nah. I just thought, “I’ll be fine, because I’m taking the bus up.”
Great idea, Trace.
I’m definitely not aiming to get a “thigh gap”, unless it’s naturally there, but dear GOD, I can’t wait for the day when my thighs aren’t wobbling and rubbing together.
Until then, I’m just gonna have to remember to wear pants/something else under skirts or dresses.
Or just don’t wear skirts or dresses if I’m planning to walk home from anywhere.