So I wanted a new coat. A warm one that covers my bum, because, after all, I am Canadian, and this is December. I see an ad for a coat liquidation sale about an hour away from my home, in the city. I’m not fond of the city. But, at this moment, I want a cheap coat. So off I go.
I didn’t get a cheap coat. But on my drive home, I thought about how my coat adventure would have been, say, 10 years ago, and how it was today, and how different those two scenarios are. I thought about how gratitude and self-love and awareness has changed my life. And I decided to write about it.
10 year ago: I walk in and see a pretty small collection of coats, much smaller than I had anticipated. I start to get nervous. What’s the chance I will find a coat I like? I’m a big girl, after all. Selection has always been poor for women my size. I see a coat I like. Search the table for a plus-size. No plus-size. Go to the next table. See a coat I don’t like as much. I can live with that. Search for plus-size. No plus-size. Start searching for any plus-size coats I can find. Doesn’t matter what they look like. Find a big bunch of bright orange plus-size coats. Try one on. Consider it, even though I will look like one of those pumpkins at a giant pumpkin growing contest. Head for the men’s rack. Maybe I can wear that ugly, boxy, black thing hanging there. Try it on. The top half looks like I’m wearing my father’s clothes, the bottom half is hugging my ass. Curse my fat ass. Get more and more upset. How dare these people discriminate against me because of my size? Don’t they know that the majority of women in North America are my size? Why can’t I have a cheap coat too? Walk out. Sit in my car and alternate between anger and sadness. Beat myself up for being fat. Drive home.
Today: I walk in and see a pretty small collection of coats, much smaller than I had anticipated, but I decide to take a look. I see a coat I like. Search the table for a plus-size. No plus-size. Go to the next table. See a coat I don’t like as much, but I can live with. Search for plus-size. No plus-size. Start searching for any plus-size coats I can find. I realize that the only coats in this room that will fit me are bright orange. I can feel myself getting anxious. So I stop. Check in. Breathe. If orange coats are my only option, then this place is not for me. It doesn’t matter whether or not I get a coat here. It is what it is. I let it go.
I leave and decide to do something else to make the trip worthwhile. Our old house is about 10 minutes away, so I head for the old ‘hood. Call my husband on the hands-free so he can be with me. Drive down our old street, giving him a play by play of the changes, and crawl by the house that we lived in for almost 20 years. See all of the work that we did to make it ours is still there. I hope the people who live there now are enjoying it. They got a good house. I think about our life, and feel a lot of happiness. I love our home. I love our town. My husband Googles a store that will have a coat in my size, and I drive there and buy a regular priced, warm coat that covers my bum.
I feel incredible gratitude. After all, I can afford a regular priced coat. I have a car to drive to the city. I live in a country that gets cold enough to stop tarantulas from living here. Life is very good my friends.
BreatheShellyGirl 