We’re going on vacation in a few days. I have been incredibly distracted this whole week with dreaming about it. Nine days in the Caribbean. Sailing. Sunning. Relaxing. Finally, it’s here: The motivation behind going to the club the last few months.
As you undoubtedly know, the thought of trying on suits with a 3-way mirror staring back at you and the opposite of candle-lighting showing everything you try so desperately to hide is a terrific motivator. (And a bit terror inducing.) It got me back to the gym, lifting and tread-milling for months. I waited until the last moment to shop for the suit.
I found a few I really liked, if only they would have fit. I found some that fit great but would look better on my mother. After what felt like hours and a million shops later, I found one that I liked and that FIT. I tried it on for my husband that evening. I noticed then that the bottoms didn’t quite hit the tummy bulge at the right spot – there was some muffin action. I complained a little (testing the waters) to Steve. He casually commented, “You know, when a person loses weight, they first lose it from their face and legs, the stomach is just the last to go.”
If I repeated that to 10 men, they’d agree, and think nothing of it: a factual bit of info. Ten women, on the other hand, and I bet all of them would say, “He said what?” It was a bad answer. I thought he knew better. A momentary lapse I guess. I hope.
Anyway, I was silent for a minute and then said, “The suit is going back.” I’m thinking I’m giving him a second chance here, right. He can totally redeem himself with a simple, “No, that’s not what I meant honey, the suit looks GREAT on you. Sexy even.” But he had no response. I vehemently removed the suit and put it back in the bag. The man doesn’t have a clue sometimes! Why can’t he fully comprehend my irrational, overreacting ways when it comes to my body? He’s had enough time to figure this out, damnit!
Aside: You know, women’s stores should give away guides instructing men on the “appropriate” way to react when shown their woman’s lingerie/swimsuit/bra purchases. (Any clothing purchase, actually.) The store could put it in the bag with the receipt and the woman would just hand it to her partner while she changed into the item. I bet they’d get a lot fewer returns.
So, I stopped going to the store. I went on-line. Aha! I learned that Victoria’s Secret allows shoppers to return swimsuits. So I studied them over the course of a few nights, got Steve’s and Sami’s (daughter) opinion, and bought 4 suits hoping at least one would work.
Steve was home when I tried them on a few nights later. He was in fine husband form. He loved them all. The words sexy, great, firm, and wow were all used. I kept three of the suits. And I feel pretty dang good in them, which a huge and rare feat.
Amazing how much power is in a few perfectly placed compliments from your man. I guess one could ask: Why do I give him this power? But that’s way too deep for my pre-vacation brain. I’ll just enjoy it.
This concludes another view from my married life.