Making an effort

I have never really been one to be so concerned about my appearance. I don't take long to get ready and I frequently leave the house without looking in the mirror. I would say I am far from vain and don't take an interest in fashion. I have an eclectic taste in clothes and accessories and I always thought that I didn't care what anyone thought. Until now.

A few weeks ago, my boyfriend told me that I wasn't making much of an effort any more. This felt like a bit of a slap in the face and to be honest, I was a bit hurt by it. As an obsessive thinker, his words swirled around my head for days. At first I had a bit of a defiant reaction; there was nothing wrong with how I looked. I work in a very casual environment so I don't need to be dressed up, my weekday and weekend attire are one and the same. I thought how dare he comment on the way I dress! How mean!

After defiance came analysis. I started to think about it more critically. Was there some truth in it? I never took the time to do much more to my hair than tie it up. I was very happy in jeans and a t-shirt, but was it the easy option? Was I really thinking about what I was throwing on in the morning? And why should it matter?

Next came action of sorts. I thought to hell with it, I will make an effort. I will make a big effort and I will show him! So I did. I thought about what I should wear and I took some time to do my hair and with every day that I did that, I would ask the same question: "Am I making an effort?" I was told "yes" each time. I was, in my mind, really just making a point. I thought it would point out how wrong he had been and he would realise that his comment had been misjudged.

After a few days of this effort making, I once again asked the question and this time I was given a different answer. He told me that he had noticed the effort I had been making, but more than that, he had noticed the change in me. He could see that I was brighter, more confident and noticeably happier. He told me that it wasn't about what I was wearing, but it was about the affect it had on me. That it brought about a change in my mood and outlook.

Next came realisation. In his own charming way, my boyfriend had pushed me to make a change for the better. I had sometimes been just throwing any old thing on and frequently did little more than wash and leave my hair tied up. These things didn't make me feel good, they didn't make me feel confident or myself. I hadn't been giving myself enough focus. I had let myself get lost along the way a little bit and he knew I was still there and whether it was intentional or not, he found a clever way to get me back.

I know clothes can't and won't help to rid me of my issues, I'm not that daft or shallow. And yes, we shouldn't care what people think about us and we should be able to wear whatever we want. The moral of the story isn't about the clothes or hair or even the lack of effort, it is about that one thing that gives you a boost. Something that lifts you and makes you feel more you. In the last week or so I have begun to feel much more clear headed and like I have turned a corner.

It's funny how one comment can cause a change. Thankfully this was a good change. I realised that I needed to give myself a bit of time and attention. That my wellbeing was maybe being neglected. I had been so caught up in the struggle on the inside that I let go of the outside. I think I am in a good place to deal with both at once again. How I am looking on the outside is a good reflection of how I am feeling on the inside and for now, without blowing my own trumpet, I am looking and feeling so much better. Making an effort doesn't seem like such an effort any more.