I was on a wrap-up call with a client the other day, reflecting on her experience, her personal style and revisiting the questionnaire she filled out at the beginning of our work together.
We started talking about the kinds of questions women are so often asked about style and body image.
“If you could fix one thing about your appearance, what would it be?”
“What do you like about your body?”
“What don’t you like about it?”
“What clothes look best on you?” (always insinuates “flattering”)
Those conversations are sooooooooo tired to me. They’re reductionistic and like we’re living inside the 1997 women’s magazine culture where endlessly dissecting ourselves under the fluorescent lighting of a shitty dressing room. Alone.
She said my questionnaire felt different than those typical questions, because I wasn’t asking her to critique herself. I was asking her to understand herself better.
This distinction matters, because it takes us to the deeper, more meaningful places of our soul’s delight. There’s a subtle, very important difference between having a body and being embodied.
I told this client about an experience I had over the weekend, where I was getting dressed to meet a group of friends. I found myself standing in my bedroom, ten minutes before I needed to leave, surrounded by discarded clothes and completely naked because I had tried on three different outfits and hated all of them.
And I remember thinking:
“What is my primary aim here?”
It was to go spend time with the people I love. To connect with them, laugh, and to be present.
THAT’S my primary spiritual aim. There was nothing I needed more in the world, and I needed to make sure NOTHING got in the way.
One of the hardest parts of my job is hearing about the experiences people miss because they’ve been taught to be consumed by worries about their bodies and what to wear. The most heartbreaking part is when they tell me they’re missing time with friends because of it.
This is when style stops supporting us and starts owning us.
The question should no longer be, “How do you feel about your body?”
But instead:
“When do you feel most at home in yourself?”
“What are you wearing when you feel most confident?”
“Does what you wear help you feel freer, more expressed, more present?”
Do you think it would change how you experience getting dressed in the morning if you asked yourself the question: “What is my primary spiritual aim today?” Try it.