Cups & Curiosity

I am no stranger to the current movement around body positivity, but if I’m being honest… I’ve always felt like a bit of a stranger to the positivity part. It’s a message that I want to believe, that I cheer on when I see it in others — yet when it comes to my own body, it often feels like an uphill battle.

I’ve been overweight for as long as I can remember. I was the fat kid who got teased, from my first day of Pre-K right up through senior year of high school. It wasn’t just the words that stuck with me — it was the constant awareness that others saw me as “less than” because of my size. That kind of experience has a way of getting into your bones. It makes you shrink. Not physically — but emotionally, mentally. You learn to make yourself small in other ways: you hide your personality, your opinions, your body.

For so many years, I thought the best defense was invisibility. I wore clothes that didn’t feel like me — clothes that covered up, disguised, or distracted. I thought if I could just disappear behind a sea of oversized sweatshirts or drab colors, maybe people wouldn’t notice. But of course… they noticed anyway. And more importantly — I noticed. I didn’t feel like myself. I wasn’t allowing myself to be myself.

But here’s the truth that I’m finally learning to face: no outfit — no matter how shapeless or dark — can hide the fact that I’m overweight. And why should I want to hide? What am I protecting myself from? Whose judgment am I really afraid of?

Today, something shifted. I went shopping with my best friend (the same friend who’s seen me through all those high school struggles), and on a whim, I decided to buy something that — for me — felt bold. I bought my first pair of shorts in over 17 years. And an adorable sundress that I can’t wait to wear on our girl’s trip to the North Fork this weekend.

Standing in the dressing room, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time: giddy. Free. Free from the old voices in my head. Free from the “rules” I’d built for myself. And honestly — who the f*** cares anymore? The only approval I need is my own. When I tried on those clothes, I felt comfortable, I felt confident. I felt like… me. And isn’t that what fashion is supposed to do — to help you express who you are?

I think writing this blog has been helping me come to these realizations. Taking time each day to journal, to meditate through a new hobby or skill, is helping me peel back the layers I’ve hidden behind for so long. I’m learning to look inward and reach for the version of myself that’s been waiting to step into the light.

And if that version of me wants to wear shorts and a sundress — well then, so be it.