"One thing I know/ This pain will go." --Suzanne Vega
I kissed a few frogs on the path to meeting my prince, my husband. And along the way, some left me green and croaking for a while. In those tough times, I would become even more aware of the textures & qualities of my clothes--my clothes became a form of solace, and dressing up would help me get through the next day even though I wanted to die.
In the morning, the world insisting that I pick myself up and go to work, I'd don a crisp white shirt--white always fresh, always a new start. I'd make lists of all the things I liked about myself, about my life--from my kitty purring on my chest to listening to my favorite songs, to walking in the park through crunchy leaves.
I'd go to the movies by myself every Sunday afternoon back then, escape for a couple hours into someone else's make-believe existence. A married woman said to me then: "When you meet the right person, they'll like the same movies you do."
If I could make it past the anger, I was about ready to come out of hiding. They say to "take care of yourself," which sometimes translates into buying yourself something new--ideally the trendiest, hottest outfit possible to say "I'm moving forward. I'm part of the new; goodbye, old."
"I'm moving forward.
Ask the married when they spent the most on their clothes, and they'll tell you it was either when they got a new job or when they were dating. Looking good on the outside really can help you feel better on the inside. It's not so much the clothes as the confidence they help restore.
I've been green & I've been blue. But in the end, I found someone who likes to go to the movies with me. He likes action films and violence, but he also appreciates a good comedy, suspense, foreign film, or drama. I don't think he cares much what I'm wearing, but he tells me I look nice every day.
What have you worn to survive a break-up?