Monday, December 11, 2006

Confession


We've all done things that we are not proud of, things we regret. Hindsight is 20/20 after all. Maybe you regret that unfortunate acid jeans and matching acid-wash jacket. Possibly it's the fact that you still own a leisure suit or once kicked a three-legged dog because it just wasn't gimping fast enough for you. Well, here's one of my things. I once bought, owned and (gulp) wore a t-shirt that said...Playboy on it.

I know. I know. I cringe whenever I think of that stupid thing. Why?! In fact it's still hanging in the way back of my closet. A reminder of a less than secure time in my life I suppose. Why did I buy it? Was it an impluse purchase? I have to say no to that. It was definetly a calculated buy. I bought it, of course, when I was much smaller and more svelte. It's white and a low-cut v-neck. In glittery silver letters the word 'Playboy' would sit directly where it was supposed to. I cringe over the fact that I actually forked over hard earned money for that piece of crap. I shudder to think I actually wore it on occasion but to my relief only at home. I bought it to...oh god...like a piece of sexy underwear to make my husband happy.

H, not a reader of the Playboy publications, doesn't care about such things in reality. But, newly married, wanting my spouse to think I was still hot, I was clearly dealing with my own warped issues when I bought that damn thing. Clearly. He thought it was cute mainly because it was tight and low cut and it could have said 'Motor Oil' or 'Wonder Bread' on the front and it wouldn't have matter to him.

For me though it was like a walking billboard that I was still desirable. Getting married, changing my last name, it was as if was losing myself and I didn't know who I was anymore. I felt older than I was suddenly and being unemployed, in a new place and incredibly lonely only added to those feelings of insecurity and loss. So I bought the shirt to make myself feel better. Did it work? Not really. I wore probably three times and came to my senses. I realized what I was doing was not only not working but making me feel worse. That shirt represents everything in a woman I've never wanted to be. Everything I abhor. I should just burn it in efigy on my deck one day to really make the statement it deserves. That's the statement I want to make with that shirt!

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