My Doctor Wants Me to Post This
Many folks have a fear of flying, or arachnophobia, etc. Common phobias. Other than a fear of heights, I considered myself fairly fear-free.
Then I lost 75 pounds. That's only halfway to my goal weight, but with everything in my closet falling off me and not enough time to tailor anything but my favorites, my daughter said, "Enough is enough, Mom! You can't make a bra, okay? Time to shop!"
I sighed and gave in. Until we came to the threshold of the lingerie department. My feet wouldn't move further. I stood there, paralyzed with fear some snobby salesclerk would give me the usual contemptuous look. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. We don't carry the larger sizes. May I recommend Lane Bryant at the other end of the mall?" You know, the dismissive flick of the hair, the turned up nose and presenting her back as if you're unworthy to even set foot in her department?
My daughter had to literally trick me to get me in the area by asking me if a certain sexy little bra would work with her wedding gown we'd planned.
Then, because I wasn't the victim/shopper, I could go to her. I was relieved and hoped she'd pulled a fast one, hoping I'd buy her some lingerie for her wedding. To get out of buying for myself there and hoping to go back to buying my lingerie online where I didn't have to be snubbed by salesclerks, I was happy to shop.
My daughter pretended to shop for herself, casually asking my opinion, and eventually she slipped in the question about what size I thought I might be these days.
I fell for it and told her my estimate. After all, I am proud of my much smaller size, even if I'm only halfway to goal.
Quick as a wink, two packages of my size underwear and bras hit the basket. Susan grinned in triumph. "Gotcha, Mom. I saw you admiring these. You can wear them now, you know!"
I gulped. I glanced around furtively, hoping I could make a mad dash for the registers before the salesclerk had me burned alive for sacrilege.
It took me two days to open those packages and try them on. They fit. In fact, they're comfy! My fear is gone, and next on my shopping challenges will be (gulp) buying a pair of jeans in the Misses section, not the "Women's" department. Pray for me!
I decided I'd better mention this horrible fear reaction to my doctor so he could warn the shrink to warn the pre-ops that they might have to face the challenge of a fear of shopping in the normal stores. It's freaky, and I never thought it would happen to me, the clothes horse.
Doctor Baptista said he'd heard of this from several of his patients, but no one had explained it to him until me. He promised to tell the shrink if I'd blog about it.
Save yourselves and shop early and often. Learn to buy one or two pieces as you shrink, or you may face the phobia yourselves. You have nothing to fear from the salesclerks, really. (My mantra.)
All laughter at my expense is welcome. Thank you.
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