Excuse my appearance, my armor is couture...

I was scrolling through Facebook one night and I saw something that Bassam Salem wrote and it made me stop. "Dress like you care; it's not just for other people."

I completely understood where he was coming from as it's been explained to me multiple times. "Dress for the job you want not the one you have". "Your clothes are a uniform you use as armor". "First impression is everything." I've heard it all and I understand. The clothes you wear and the way you look makes a huge impact on how the world perceives you.

Before I can explain to you why I struggle with this concept of the "clothes makes the man" I first need to give you a little back story on baby Shari.

When I was about 4 years old I contracted ringworms on my head. My mother was horrified. She translated ringworms literally and thought a parasite had infected her baby. So for the next couple of years she obsessively kept me bald and for brief periods she would let me hair grow to the top of my ears. Knowing that people might mistaken me for a boy she would find elaborate dresses for me to wear. (spoiler alert: this did not help my image)

Needless to say this gave me some very unwanted attention. Children would make fun of me, throw rocks at me, claw at my face. Adults would walk by and whisper, is that a boy or a girl? Any rational person would probably devote their adult life to looking flawless, right? Not me, I went the other way. I was indignant that people couldn't see past my hair, my clothes. I was determined to show the world. I am more than what I appear.

From that age on I was determined to not give into the demand that I had to look a certain way. I wasn't going to let myself be a wallflower to avoid negativity. I would take each and every word of criticism and I would build myself armor to put on as I showed up in my life, taking center stage.

I didn't care what other people thought about my appearance. I didn't care if my clothes were from goodwill. I didn't care if my face wasn't perfectly painted. I was proud of who I was. I was proud of the stand I was taking. I wore my armor proudly. I was different, I was better. However, I felt something completely different reading the words Bassam put on paper. "Dress like you care; it's not just for other people."

I couldn't put my finger on why but what I read bothered me. It made me reconsider my stance. Do I have the wrong perspective? For days, weeks, I thought about this sentence. I thought about why it bothered me. I wondered if I have been wrong all these years. As I write the words now I realize, I wasn't doing it because I was proud...I was angry. So angry that I was not about to allow myself to put on THEIR armor. I would make my own. I would wear it proudly. Now I realize I took the immature actions of children from thirty years ago and I built an armor that isolated me.

Truth be told, I don't know how to feel about wearing perfectly crafted outfits, fancy jewelry and make up to give a good first impression. I don't know if I agree with Bassam's words. What I do know is that I need to put down my anger and look at it with a fresh perspective. Until I do figure it out, I ask you to give me some grace. Please excuse my appearance, my armor is couture.