How Getting Dressed Turned a Love Letter to Myself


“Model is a method to say who you might be with out having to talk.” ~Rachel Zoe

I didn’t got down to discover myself.

I simply regarded within the mirror at some point and thought, “Wait, when did I cease wanting like me?”

It was after a breakup—the sort that leaves you foggy, emotionally threadbare, making an attempt to make sense of the place you misplaced your self.

There I used to be, standing in my bed room, sporting one thing useful, outdoorsy, and… utterly not me.

Not that there’s something flawed with cargo pants and fleece. If that’s your type, it’s stunning.

However I’m a girl who grew up in Paris… who loves texture, form, and colour… who used to put on lipstick to the grocery retailer simply because it made her really feel fancy.

And I couldn’t keep in mind the final time I’d wearing a method that made me really feel alive.

That second wasn’t dramatic. But it surely caught—like a pebble in my shoe, a quiet consciousness I couldn’t unfeel.

I didn’t know what to do with it at first. So I simply began noticing. What I wore. What I reached for. What I missed.

What felt like one tiny step nearer to me—and what felt like somebody (anybody) else.

And slowly, with out that means to, I began discovering my method again.

Not by way of journaling. Not by way of remedy. Via type.

I didn’t understand it then, however I used to be beginning to come house to myself—one outfit at a time.

I’ve all the time felt like a cultural mosaic—fantastically advanced in concept, however arduous to carry in a single piece.

Indian by heritage. East African household roots. Raised throughout 4 nations. A mixture of accents, traditions, languages, and methods of seeing the world.

And for a very long time, I wasn’t certain who I used to be purported to be in the course of all that.

In some circles, I used to be too Western. In others, I felt too brown, too “different.” Even inside my very own group, I usually sensed I used to be too totally different… not conventional sufficient.

I grew to become expert at shape-shifting—mixing in the place I might, firming down what felt inconvenient. Quietly gathering contradictions I didn’t know the way to resolve.

I attempted, after all. I learn the books. Took the workshops. Employed the coaches. I journaled and meditated and therapized and “mantra-ed” myself half to dying. I even grew to become a coach.

Most of it helped, in its personal method.

However the strangest, most trustworthy form of therapeutic didn’t occur in a training session or on a yoga mat. It occurred in my closet.

It began quietly. One evening, I discovered myself selecting out an outfit for the subsequent day… To not impress. To not curate a glance. Simply to really feel a bit of extra like myself. And for some purpose, that felt good. Mild. Reassuring.

So I did it once more the subsequent evening. And the subsequent.

Ultimately, it grew to become a ritual. Simply me, slowing down lengthy sufficient to test in with myself.

I began to ask questions like:

  • What components of me wish to present up tomorrow?
  • What feeling do I wish to carry into the day?
  • Which items make me really feel alive?

Then I’d select garments that mirrored no matter solutions got here by way of.

Generally that meant daring colour and structured traces—one thing that mentioned, I’m right here, and I’m not hiding.

Generally it meant mushy, draping materials—one thing that allow me exhale.

Generally it meant a mixture of issues that didn’t “go” however one way or the other felt just like the truest model of me.

Like I used to be letting the paradoxes reside on my physique as an alternative of simply in my head.

And in doing that—in really sporting my contradictions, wrapping them in silk and denim and thread—I started to make peace with them. And I started to cease seeing them as flaws to elucidate away or conceal and begin seeing them as richness. Texture. Proof of a life deeply lived.

As a substitute of making an attempt to resolve the stress, I let or not it’s stunning. I let it belong. And surprisingly, that softened one thing in me.

The disgrace that when whispered, “Decide a aspect, be clearer, be much less complicated” quieted.

I started to belief that I might maintain multitudes—and nonetheless be entire.

Within the morning, after I’d slip into these garments, it wasn’t nearly getting dressed. It was an act of permitting. Permitting myself to be seen. To take up area. To be advanced, contradictory, and nonetheless worthy of magnificence. A quiet sure to the fullness of who I’m—who I’ve all the time been.

What shocked me most was how I began to really feel.

How might one thing exterior—one thing as seemingly superficial as clothes—give me the elusive confidence I’d spent years chasing on the within?

Possibly it wasn’t in regards to the garments in any respect. Possibly it was about permission.

To be seen. To really feel stunning alone phrases. To inform the reality of who I’m—not with phrases, however with cloth and colour and silhouette.

Possibly it was about giving my physique an opportunity to talk… and studying the way to pay attention.

Each night, I nonetheless take just a few quiet minutes to pick what I’ll put on the subsequent day. Not as a result of I’m making an attempt to venture one thing. However as a result of it helps me connect with one thing.

It’s one of many solely components of my day that feels utterly mine—not rushed, not reactive. A mushy pause. A second to land.

Clothes has change into a form of mirror. And that second of dressing has change into a type of meditation. Not the sitting-still type. The remembering type. The reconnecting type.

I believed I used to be simply enjoying with materials and silhouettes. However I used to be really coming house to myself—piece by piece.

Listening to what felt good. Letting go of what didn’t. Making area for a number of components of me to coexist.

That’s the factor I by no means anticipated: one thing as strange as selecting an outfit—one thing all of us should do anyway—can change into a love letter to your self. Should you let it.



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