Confidence is More Than a Piece of Fabric

A feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation of one’s abilities or qualities.

Last month, I went shopping with my little sister because she has an eye for fashion. She is always dressed well and pulled together while you’re more likely to find me in a comfy pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt with a smart-ass remark sprawled across the front. Naturally, if I need to dress well for something, I call on her. I can always count on her to make sure my outfits look amazing but I also know she won’t force anything on me if I don’t like something. It is usually a very good balance and I walk away looking exactly how the way I wanted.

We went to my favorite place to shop when looking for nice clothing. I agreed to try on many things that are out of my typical comfort zone. I made a comment about not liking dresses because I have to feel my thighs rub together. I also made a comment about not wanting anything to show my midriff because I have stretch marks and I joked that nobody needs to see that. I feel that my sister and I saw these comments in completely different perspectives.

She told me that she doesn’t think I’m as confident as I make myself seem and it’s all just a huge façade that I put on. She felt that because I don’t like my thighs to rub together in a dress and I don’t think the world should see my stretch marks that I lack confidence. I’ve thought about her words and I just don’t see how these two things play a factor in how I feel about myself as a person. I was simply stating what makes me feel comfortable. I know that I have stretch marks. I know that I have a few pounds to lose. I know that my body is not perfect but I accept it and love it despite its flaws. I’ve always associated confidence in comfort with oneself. Maybe I am wrong? I doubt it but maybe I am.

If you put the two of us together, we are two very different people. She is tiny. 5’0 and possibly 100lbs. I am 5’7 and officially down to 183.6lbs which I am incredibly proud of myself for. She wears makeup almost daily and you’re lucky to see me put it on more than once a week. She dresses impeccably and I like to dress comfortable with a side of witty. She wears heels or booties (a new one I learned recently) and I’m more likely to wear running shoes that rarely move past a brisk walk or my kickin’ Harry Potter converses.

Our appearances are just the beginning of the differences. It runs so much deeper. She’s a people please while I’m a ME pleaser. She often seems unsure of herself and I’m what I like to call obnoxiously confident while other people would refer to it as arrogant and cocky. And you know what? I don’t care. I feel she doesn’t stand up for who she is as often as she should and that saddens me because she’s too amazing not to defend herself. I, on the other hand, am who I am. Take it or leave it.

We are both smart, talented, beautiful, and successful women but we view ourselves different for it. I see it. I embrace it. Unfortunately, she seems to often second guess it.

I worked hard to get myself to this point in my life. I had to do a lot of rebuilding of my self-esteem and had to learn to love myself for who I was not who the world wanted me to be. And I wouldn’t trade how I feel about myself for all the pretty dresses in the world. I wouldn’t give up how I feel when I look in the mirror for the flattest stomach and cute little midriff shirts. That isn’t important to me. I am comfortable with who I am and love the person I see in the mirror whether anyone else approves or not.

I truly think the problem is that people see a truly confident person as someone who thinks they are perfect in every way. A person who wouldn’t change a thing. In my opinion, a confident person knows they are never finished improving on themselves but at the same time, they believe in their self-worth. They believe they are amazing exactly how they are but they also believe they can always be better. They love themselves inside and out. They accept and embrace who they are as a person even when someone else doesn’t like it. They love who they are and they want others to be able to find that feeling of love and self-worth for themselves as well.

Once again, I may be wrong but I highly doubt it.

I am confident in the woman I am. Inside and out. Love it or hate it. This is me. Thick thighs that rub together in a dress, a belly that’s a little larger than it should be with stretch marks, long blonde hair that I’m perfectly content with being a mess, an “I survived Sharknado” shirt, and a big, smart-ass mouth. This is me and I am proud of the woman I am. The clothes I choose to wear do not make me think more or less of myself. They do not define my worth.


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