Hymas: How shopping in Vegas made being a size 12 OK

I just celebrated my 21st wedding anniversary, and we decided to go to Las Vegas. Inexpensive flights, nice hotels, and best of all: my favorite super brand shops (Louis Vuiton, Channel, Tiffany’s, Prada, Gucci, you get it).

I even talked my husband into shopping with me. Prices are too crazy to buy anything, but I love to window (dream) shop, and find incredible things, like a $500 scarf that’s the most beautiful, softest scarf you’ve ever felt.

But then we unexpectedly found a store with 60% off clearance prices. So I actually tried on and purchased some clothes. While I was trying some things on, though, I heard:

“Go get me a size 12!”

I thought to myself “Hey, that’s my size,” and looked to see what styles she had found. Instead I saw this beautiful lady coming out with her pants falling off of her body. We met in the 3-way mirror of the dressing room, and she says:

“Grrr! I work so hard to be thick and juicy, but I just can’t seem to get there no matter how hard I work.” Then, frustrated, she asked her friend to go pick up a size 8.

I stood there stunned and confused. I have worked so hard, and no matter how hard I work I am always a size 12. I want so badly to be that 8, but I am not made that way. I work out every day and try to stay in the healthy calorie range, but this is just who I am. I looked at her and said, jokingly:

“I would trade.” She agreed, jokingly. But in that moment, as we looked at each other, there was an unspoken realization: we were exactly the way we were supposed to be.

Besides the great deals on clothes, I got something more on this trip … Perspective. I say all the time that “digits are not definitions,” and I believe it. But I am also real, and I see that I have flaws. I buy clothes that fit and usually don’t worry about the number, but every once in a while I daydream of my high school years when I was super fit and trim. I get caught up with assumptions that I’m not enough; that the world is staring at me and agreeing.

But there are people out there who think my size is perfect; it’s the size they’re trying to achieve. And that gave me some perspective. It’s not the world telling me I’m not enough, it’s me. I do that to myself.

I can’t tell you how many times I have to remind myself that I am enough and my hard work is too, but it’s a lot. And I’ll have to keep telling myself. But maybe, with my Vegas shopping perspective, I won’t have to convince myself quite so often, and instead will love myself a little bit more (it is the month of love, after all).