The Hanger

Years ago, I had an experience that has stuck with me. Obviously. . . or I wouldn't be writing a blog post about it. :)

It all started when I purchased a shirt from a store and requested a hanger to use at home. . . 'cause I was too cheap to buy my own? I don't know. At any rate, the female cashier was super nice and went to work finding me a hanger. She dug around in the bin beneath her register counter for a few seconds and resurfaced with a nervous look on her face.

Did she find a dead rat, perhaps?

She had a hanger in her clutches, but apparently it was for a size "L" shirt.

{This was back in the day before I bore my fabulous children, so the shirt I purchased was likely a "small".}

She was petrified that I was going to put up a stink that she could only find a "large" hanger for my "small" shirt.

I laughed and told her that, of course, a hanger with a little "L" on it would suffice. It still worked the exact same as one with a "S".

{source}

. . .

I've thought of that experience from time to time since and it still boggles my mind. That poor cashier must have had situations under her belt where, NO, a different hanger would not have sufficed. Are we really that concerned about how we appear?  Why does an "L" make us feel less worthy than a "S"? They're letters, for Pete's sake. And who, pray tell, is going to see the hanger in my closet and judge me for it? If they're going to sneak into my closet and judge me for anything, it ought to be the fact that I'm using a hanger pilfered from the store instead of buying my own.

Why am I even writing this blog post?!

Why has this experience been seared into my noggin?

I can't say.

Maybe it's because it surprised and saddened me that we still manage to put so much emphasis on insignificant little things like the size on our hangers.

And the deeper issue; our weight and how we look.

. . .

Our bodies change over time, ya know. Our joints start to wear down and our hair turns gray. Our skin will sag and our waists will continue to widen.

But why is that so taboo in our culture today?

Old age is something we earn. It means we've lived a full and eventful life and accomplished much. Every wrinkle tells a story of the jokes we've enjoyed, the sun we've basked in, and the sorrows we've passed through. Our worn knees testify of the trails we've hiked and the kneeling we've done; whether for praying or playing . . . or both! Our soft bellies remind us of how well we've been fed and possibly of the children we've born. Our failing eyesight is evidence of glories seen and experienced.

Why should we feel like we're worth less if we don't fit into society's current unattainable mold of perfection? Why should we worry more about how our bodies appear on the outside than how we look on the inside?

. . .

Trust me. I'm not perfect at this.

Just the other day I looked at a picture taken of me and a dear friend and forlornly said to Chuck, "I look like a moose!"

I had a nice little pity party for a while because I was comparing myself unfairly. I'm not going to look the same now as I did when I was 18, or even 21. I was being my own worst critic; like I often am.

I'll admit-- I like to look nice. I like to feel pretty and wear flattering clothes. I think it's important to look our best and try to take excellent care of our bodies. But I think we all could do a little better at being happy with where we are and who we are.

I pinky swear that it doesn't matter if your hanger is a large or a small or a medium or an extra-extra large. What matters is how you feel about yourself; so be proud and happy to be you! Cultivate an inner beauty and it will shine on the outside. Every time. You are beautiful {or handsome} because of the relationships you nurture and the compassion you show on a daily basis! You are beautiful because of YOU.    

Embrace the changes that come with time and don't berate your body for showing signs of life lived. And most importantly, never neglect that inner strength that makes you who you are. That will endure long after our bodies wear out. :)