Going Up a Pants Size Had a Shocking Effect on How I Look

Sigh. For as long as I can remember, I've practically been a slave to whatever the size label of the inside of my pants says — because I've associated my attractiveness with it not going above a certain number. Every time I go shopping, I only choose things in "my" size, and if they don't fit, I won't buy them — because wearing anything bigger than what I deem to be an appropriate size is basically like letting myself go or something.

But here's the thing — over the past month-and-a-half or so, I've been eating healthy and working out like crazy. Like almost every single day of the week. And you know what? I look better. I've only lost about five pounds or so, but when I look in the mirror, I see a woman who looks more toned, fit, and (dare I say it?) — GOOD.

And that's why I was kind of shocked when I went to try on a couple pairs of capri pants last weekend in "my" size, and they were too tight in the butt.

My first reaction in the dressing room was something alone the lines of, "What the hell? I've been exercising nearly every day and I've gone UP a size? What's that all about?"

But then I took a good look at my butt again. Yes, the pants were definitely too tight. But my butt was at the level it's supposed to be — not hanging down around my mid-thigh region like it has been in previous months.

And that's when I did the unthinkable. I asked the sales girl to go get me the same pants in the next size up. (Oh, the horror.)

She brought them to my fitting room, I tried them on — and they fit like a glove. And damn, my butt looked great in 'em. And for the first time in I can't remember how long — I took home a pair of pants that flattered my body instead of my distorted view of what is and is not an acceptable size for me to be wearing.

And when I wore my new pants for a dinner date with my mom the next night, she kept going on and on about how great they looked, and I didn't argue with her. Not only was I comfortable and confident in those pants — I also wasn't obsessing over the size on the tag in the waistband because I refuse to let it make me feel like a fat ass anymore.

From now on, I'm dressing in whatever looks and feels good, regardless of whatever that stupid tag says. Besides, I'm the only one who has to see it anyway. And it's about time I stopped giving myself grief over it.

Do you ever let sizes sway you from buying certain clothes?

Image via AJ Batac/Flickr