...breakthrough...

I may have had a breakthrough people (or should I say... universe, since no one is actually reading)...


This weekend Jordan and I went down to spend Saturday night and Sunday with his family. His mom was having a family party at the house on Sunday (for Valentines and all the birthdays they've had in the family the past month), so we went to support her and to finally give the little brothers their overdue gifts.


When we arrived, everyone was sitting around in the kitchen, discussing the plans. Frankie (Jordan's mom) said to me "For your birthday, I want to take you shopping!"


It's at this moment that I felt the cold sweat and hives break out.


You see. I hate clothes shopping as it is. I haven't found much joy in wandering around crowded malls, and then, on the off chance of finding something cute (or at least wearable) undressing in front of mirrors that somehow make you look 20 pounds heavier and lighting that magically finds your every dimple and mark. Not fun.


What could be worse you ask?


Doing this with my size 2 (literally) mother-in-law.


Now you understand.


So when the suggestion of going shopping was presented, panic immediately consumed me. I started in on the list of dozens of excuses if this were to ever occur:


Me: "I'm really picky when it comes to clothes."


Frankie: "I understand, so am I. You don't have to get anything if you don't love it, but we'll just go look and try things on to see."


Me: "But when I go shopping I usually don't even find anything worth trying on."


Frankie: "That's OK. I spent hours shopping for your birthday already, and I can't come up with anything.


Me: "I need glasses for the kitchen!"


Frankie: "OK, we'll look at those too. I want to get you things you can wear to your new job. I know you have to dress up."


Me: "I actually went shopping when I got the job, so I've pretty much gotten everything I need."


Frankie: "A girl can never have enough clothes."


Needless to say, there was no getting out of it. And apparently, Jordan didn't do my dirty work (like I've insisted dozens of times) telling his mother that I will never want clothes as a gift. Ever.


I succumbed to the pressure, and agreed to go.


We walked around the mall, and I made it out without trying a single thing on. It was glorious. I think she realized there may never come a day when I want to shop for clothes with her, so she agreed to go to BB&B to look for home goods. We drove off to find glasses that wouldn't melt in my dishwasher.


I could've gotten off easy. But, I realized I'll never learn to accept myself living like this. So what if my mother-in-law thinks I'm fat and hideous? If she does, that's only a reflection of her, not me.


I also knew I couldn't justly blog about learning to love my imperfections if I wasn't taking any steps to do so.


I got brave and admitted to her that I was in desperate need of jeans.


She was elated.


To make an already long story a little shorter, we went, we shopped, we conquered. And it wasn't even bad. She was so kind and accepting, and I even felt like I was on the verge of being comfortable doing this with her.


What a big step, eh?


For being such a big girl, she even got me those glasses.