Playing Dress-Up.

A short time ago we celebrated Halloween. I absolutely love this holiday.





I don't pay much attention to the scary, ghoulish aspect. Rather, I love the dressing up part. I love how people the world over buy in to the whole idea of forgetting who they might be every other day of the year and just for one magical night dress up as anyone they like or, in some cases, would like to be. Mickey Mouse or a rockstar, a pirate or Miss America, the choices are endless. All you have to do is commit and the rest of the world says ok, we believe you. If you want to be Lady Gaga, people will accept you as such, pants-less and all. Sarah Palin? Go for it, you maverick. Gene Simmons from Kiss? Rock those high-heeled man boots in style, my friend. We all agree to share that willing suspension of disbelief. We all buy into the fantasy because we, too, want to be seen as someone else, someone better or sexier or funnier or more glamorous. Even if just for one night.






Costume or not, I notice I have been peeling off my own 'masks' as of late. I am feeling pretty good these days and realizing who I am, the good and the bad. I have been coming to terms with my weaknesses, celebrating my strengths and overall am just happier in general. Yoga and cardio are working wonders. So is a new-found perspective I can only attribute to just being kinder to myself.





But back to Halloween. Who did I want to pretend to be on this night of nights? SuperGirl. I know...what a funny thing to aspire to, right? Ever since I saw Phoebe on Friends dress up as SuperGirl, I've thought it was the most kick-ass and cute costume I have ever seen. Equal parts fun and flirty, I really thought I could pull it off.






The search was on for a realistic costume that made me look cute and matched my 'kryptonite-free' mood. I promised myself I wouldn't wait until the last minute but somehow still found myself scrambling a few days before the big day. I was vehemently against spending the $50 for the deluxe costume but I ordered it anyway (the clock was ticking!) hoping it would 1) get here in time and 2) actually fit me, a girl with a high waist and legs practically up to my neck. (Off the rack is tough for me).



Ultimately, it did fit. Well...kind of. If I planned to never leave my house it would have been fine: after I checked out the package it made sense. It was a costume meant for role play for "adventurous adults." But on a six-foot frame like mine, it didn't even cover my "adventurous adult" butt. I was aiming to hear comments like, "Oh, cute SuperGirl!" Not, "Whoa, what corner is SuperGirl working tonight?!"



Role play or not, I'm all for being sexy. But this was a bit too much for even the 'suddenly more confident' me. I felt terribly inauthentic. It was more than a poor fit in size alone. I began to wonder why I had been so hell-bent on that particular costume in the first place. Why SuperGirl? Why a super hero? To me, SuperGirl on an even deeper level symbolized being super at everything, an unrealistic ideal I had foolishly held on to for so long and had finally been making headway towards letting go. Yes, it was just a costume. But it was also a role I was still trying to 'fit' into without even realizing it. Old habits die hard, though, and even when we make steps forward we can occasionally take a step back if we're not being aware. I noticed my step and decided this was not a 'mask' I wanted to wear anymore.



I returned the costume and came to my senses. I wanted to dress up but was perfectly content just being me, too. So while SuperGirl didn't make an appearance that night, a happy, more grown-up Tinkerbell did. And that wasn't scary at all.