When I was younger I heard an interview with Celine Dion.  She was describing what she wore to her wedding — the weight of the crown and the pain of the shoes.  She laughed and said, almost dismissively, “When you start worrying about comfort you have become old.”

I gotta tell you, that left a lasting impression on me.  I spent many a day, many an evening, being uncomfortable in my clothing, reminding myself that I didn’t want to be old.

The flaws in this thought process are RAMPANT.  Now, at the ripe old age of forty, I can promise you that my number one priority is being comfortable and that if that makes me old, so f*cking be it.  Then I’m old.  I refuse to suffer needlessly in uncomfortable shoes, pants or anything else.  It’s a true waste of time.  Why be uncomfortable ON PURPOSE?!?

**

I learned, at some point in life, that advice from Celine Dion would not steer me in the correct direction.  Celine Dion’s priorities did not accurately (or ever) reflect my own.  In fact, the only person I should have been listening to, all those years ago and every day since, is me.  There is confidence in comfort, self-assuredness in feeling okay in your own skin.  Always trying to be something else, wearing something outside of that … it sets a person up for failure.

I bought three tank tops today.  I didn’t need to.  I probably shouldn’t have bought them.  But they are tanks with built-in bras by my favorite bra company IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE … and they sell out so fast I knew I had to seize the moment.

Listen, over seven years ago I began learning very difficult life lessons.  Not because I wanted to or because I had found some sort of enlightenment. Nope.  It was because I’d been diagnosed with an autoimmune disease that has slowly and systematically eaten away at my body.  I only have so much energy; so much patience for all the minutae of life that is exhausting.

I work hard to be as healthy as I can be, but that work wears me out.  By the time I’ve showered and need to get dressed I don’t want to spend even an ouce of unnecessary energy trying to figure out what to wear (and I most certainly don’t want it to be uncomfortable).  I buy things I like in a couple colors and rotate through them.  I save mental energy and physical energy.  Because  … spoons.

Have you heard the spoon theory?  It’s a good one.  It’s the idea that those of us afflicted with some sort of illness or disability (be it visible or invisible) have a finite amount of energy in each day.  Let’s say, twelve spoons.  We have to decide how to use those spoons (shower, cook, work, drive, laundry, yoga, mopping floors, etc etc etc ad infinitum).  I started wearing my hair curly about two years ago because I just couldn’t keep spending so many spoons straightening it.  Not because I like curly hair or I was ahead of the curve with the new natural hair trend.  Nope.  Because I was tired.  Like I am ALL. THE. TIME.  If I use too many spoons in a day — like, I work and clean the house and cook dinner and shower (showering = a lot of spoons) and take Lucy on a walk or two … and all of sudden I crash … well, I just used tomorrow’s spoons.  So when tomorrow rolls around, I’ll be a wet dishrag for half the day because I just don’t have enough energy to get through.

And not just a wet dishrag physically.  Also, and even more rewarding, a wet dishrag mentally.  Which (obviously) can wreak havoc on a working person.

So.  Spoons.

All I could think about today was how I have designed my wardrobe to look put together without requiring much thought or effort at all.  I like rompers and dresses and overalls and jumpsuits (one thing = the whole outfit = not much thought needed).  I like athleisure because I work out and I like to also look nice, and leggings and a sports bra don’t take much thought.  Plus –> comfy!!

I like being comfortable.  My body so often is *not* (because, well, MS).  And I thought about Celine Dion and how I wished so very hard I hadn’t listened to her all those years ago.  But young minds are impressionable ones, and young minds seeking approval and a place in this world soak up all the bad advice about how to do it.  If I could change who I was back then I wouldn’t become who I am now, so I guess there’s comfort in that.

xox, g