The Summer I Gave Up Shorts

I feel like I am constantly confessing secrets to you guys. In many ways, Laurel and Iron is a diary of my life. A lot of times I get that nagging voice, “Literally no one cares Lauren.” That could very well be true but if I am feeling this way, maybe one of you are, too. And if just one of you reads this and it rings true to you, then I will have achieved my goal. So, here it goes:

I hate shorts with a burning passion.

Shorts are cute. They make summer less awful. I get it but gosh darn it, I hate wearing them. This has been a battle I’ve been waging for as long as I can remember be conscious about what I was wearing. So, sixth grade.

Somewhere around that time, I also became hyperaware of my body. Thank you to the boob gods who blessed me with C cups straight out the gate It was a grand old time and I never ever felt awkward, uncomfortable, or embarrassed about them and my introverted self loved all the unwelcome attention.

In that period of realizing that I had a body that was biologically different from approximately 50% of my class mates, I came to notice my legs. Beside the fact that they incredibly pale, they’re oddly muscular. More muscular and “wider” than any of my friends at the time. Was it genetics? Maybe. Was it just my development? Maybe. I was a hardcore swimmer and just getting into field hockey - two sports in which lower body strength is key.

Whatever, the case, I decided they must be hidden. For years, I wore only capris and long pants even at the beach. Even in 100 degree heat. Because I thought that only skinny, little tan calves were worthy of being shown.

At some point, I grew and matured and said FUCK IT. There is nothing wrong with the body that God gave me and I don’t give any shits. So, I started to wear shorts again only to discover that I hate them. From years of not dealing with them, I had no idea that shorts are so, so uncomfortable.

First of all, I find that I have to size up one to two sizes, even from my favorite jean brands, to get pairs that fit over my bum. This inevitably leads to waist gap situation that leaves me reeling. And even then, they're never flattering on my body - some how they highlight all my biggest insecurities. And finally, I cannot stand the constant fiddling required to keep them from looking like a diaper when the the legs ride up in the crotch.

So, I’m done. I have dreaded summer weather for years. I have cried in dressing rooms while trying to find shorts that fit my body. And I’m simply not doing it anymore. Until women’s fashion catches up the technology that keeps men from facing these issue, I’m sticking to dresses and skirts.

I feel my most beautiful in dresses. And this decision has felt like a weight off my shoulders.

Why am I sharing this clearing unimportant fact with you? Because I’m calling you to examine your wardrobe. Check in with yourself. Are there things that always feel wrong? Do you always fiddle with a certain piece of clothing?

Guess what, your body isn’t the problem. It’s the clothes. When we realize that its the clothing that makes us feel bad, we can stop blaming our bodies and learn to love ourselves just as we are. So, what do you do from here?

Toss ‘em. And start living your best life in the body you have right now in clothing that makes you feel like a million bucks. You are worth it and you deserve it.