Labels

I’ve been giving a lot of thought lately to my perception of myself.  I once heard a speaker talk about labels.  She was stressing the importance of getting rid of old negative labels we put on ourselves, or that others have stuck us with.  It is amazing how tightly adhered some of those labels are.  It reminds me of when you ever so carefully try to remove a sticker without leaving any of the adhesive behind, but despite your painstaking efforts, you are left scratching away with your fingernail trying to get it all off.

I think that is how it has been for me in trying to rid myself of some of my labels.

When I was young, I accepted what other people said about me.  I didn’t like it, but I didn’t deny it.  If people called me a weirdo, I assumed that identity.  If I was fat and ugly, well, that must be accurate.  If I was a loser and a loner, hmm, sounds about right.  That’s me, that’s Anne.  Of course, there were some positive labels, intelligent, creative, funny.  Though usually those labels had an asterisk next to them denoting some other label that would negate the positivity of the first.  Like “Funny*”  *but ugly, or something of the sort.  The bottom line is, I did not have a very healthy self esteem or perception of myself growing up.

I still am finding myself coming up against some of those labels today.  Trying to rip those suckers off is tough.  One that I particularly struggle with is feeling like a bumbling oaf.  I don’t know what it is, but ever since I was a kid, I have felt BIG and not feminine.  Almost manly… I have been told this is untrue by many people.  And maybe part of me thinks that it might not be an accurate perception at times… But Friday, I found myself believing the old label.

I was meeting a couple friends for dinner at a trendy restaurant in Brookfield that is by a shopping mall, replete with stores that I have heard of but never set foot inside.  Altar’d, Lululemon, Anthropologie, etc. Partly this is due to the fact that I do not shop as much as I used to (trying to keep that budget in line), but also partly due to the fact that I don’t feel like I’m worthy of wearing fashionable things.  At these times I tell myself, “Well Anne, those clothes are just Goddamned overpriced nonsense.” And I pretend I’m not afraid, just “too good for that material BS.” 

Now that’s a lie. I try not to be overly concerned about material matters. God knows I’ve struggled with that in the past, but I like clothes. I’m just afraid to put something on that seems trendy and then look like I’m trying to be trendy and failed and look like a big fat goof.

So, needless to say, there’s a lot of labeling and judging and control issues and a lot of stuff going on there.

BUT! It was time to slay the dragon on Friday. 

I went into one store because the clothes on display were actually my style. I thought “Oh, what the heck, go on in there!”

As I walked through the heavy door into the store that was decorated with more care than my living space, I immediately felt a sense of being an outsider looking in.  I felt as if every person in there looked at me like “OMG, what is that?” Thinking that my entrance would create such a stir is a ridiculously absurd ego-feeding proposition.  Moreover, there was no validity to that feeling, aside from an old label rising up from within.

A voice inside telling me “You don’t belong here.  You don’t fit in.  You’re not like them. This is where pretty people shop.  This is where they shop.  GET OUT”

But I didn’t listen.  I thought to myself “Well sweet Jesus Anne, you’re gonna have to get over this bullshit sometime soon because I’m getting pretty sick of feeling like a goddamned alien every other day.  You just go look at that shirt you liked and try the thing on and walk around like you own the place, because you are the customer. And you have every right to be here. And you are a beautiful human being.  And give people a little credit. Maybe smile at someone.”

(I have to give myself ridiculous pep talks sometimes, full disclosure.)

But it worked.  I took a breath.  Let myself be myself and took my time.  Looking at the clothes upon the rack that appealed to me.  Not because of what I thought other people would think or say or anything like that.  It felt like a big accomplishment.

Now, most of the clothes were, in my humble opinion, quite overpriced.

But I did walk away with a new shirt that was on clearance,

And a new key fob that said

“Kind heart. Fierce Mind. Brave Spirit.”

Now those are some labels I can dig.