Hello friend :-)
Last week I went shopping for my upcoming holiday, and I ended up crying in a changing room, then crying in my car. Once I'd finally sorted myself out, I realised the whole sorry situation was quite a good metaphor for the what can happen when we're part of a group that doesn't leave us feeling like we belong. And it's a good story, so I thought I'd share it with you today!
I went in with raised expectations...
I'd been putting off holiday shopping, as I've been overweight since having my son and it's definitely something I still feel self-conscious about. The day before we were due to leave, I decided to head for the local outlet of a well-known UK clothing chain - one that's spent years marketing itself as being for women of all shapes and sizes, including larger women and taller women (I am both). I was optimistic I'd be able to find a few nice pieces in my size - and looking forward to having some fun doing it!
As I wandered around the holiday section, the realisation slowly dawned that this wasn't going to be the feel-good experience I had hoped it would be. Despite being packed full of beautiful clothes, there was almost nothing over the UK average (14 / 16). There was even less in the Tall version of my size. I asked a couple of members of staff about various items, only to be met with regretful headshakes. The few pieces there were were often stuffed at the back, labels torn or missing, clearly returned items. I'd gone in with high hopes, and even higher expectations. By the time I got to the checkout (with a single pair of shoes and some moisturiser), I was in pieces. I had a little cry in the shop, spoke to the manager, then had a longer cry in my car outside.
Of course it wasn't actually about the clothes (or lack of clothes). It was about the story I had started telling myself while I was walking around the store. I don't fit in here. The people who shop here are thinner, more normal, more stylish than I am. If only I were thinner, more stylish, more... something...I'd be able to buy the beautiful pieces in this shop and feel good about myself again.
I felt like an outsider in a space where I had expected to find acceptance. And that was a very uncomfortable experience.
Eventually I scraped together a bit of courage, got out of my car, took a deep breath, and went into the shop next door (one I'd always felt a bit "meh" about, if I'm honest).
What a different experience! Rail after rail of beautiful holiday clothes, many in my size, and much more of a mixture of patterns and colours. Things that were flattering, fun, full of personality, things that actually felt like me (including this gorgeous banana themed sweater - no, I didn't buy it, I was going to a Greek island. But damn I wanted to!) I walked out with a couple of gorgeous dresses, some soft stylish tops and loose beach-y trousers, feeling great about myself again! Crisis over.
Not a single thing about me had changed between those two shops (apart from having less mascara on by the time I reached the 2nd shop). Same body, same size, same person underneath it all. The only thing that had changed was the room I was standing in.
Why this is about more than just shopping...!
A chat with the manager and a few Google / Reddit searches later, and I found out the first shop has quietly shifted its focus towards younger customers, and now only stocks a narrow size range of below UK average sizes in most of its stores - if you're larger, you're pointed online. There's nothing personal in that - it wasn't specifically about me, Hannah Carmichael. But it also isn't neutral. It's a policy that quietly says 'we don't want to see people your shape in here.'
And that's exactly what happens in our social worlds too.
Friendship groups, hobby groups, workplaces, community organisations - all these spaces have unwritten policies about how people get treated. Sometimes it's about how much warmth gets handed out, and to whom. Or how much automatic trust gets extended. Sometimes it's about whose opinions are listened to and respected, versus whose are shut down. Whose jokes land, who gets remembered and checked in on, and who gets left to hover at the edge of the conversation, rather than being included. Whether physical appearance, financial status or career path make a difference to how accepted you are - or whether they don't. Nobody puts it on a sign or announces it. But you feel it - the way I felt it, rail by empty rail.
Maybe if I just tried a bit harder. Dressed differently. Said the right thing. Took up less space. If that voice sounds familiar, I want you to notice something - it might be saying slightly different words, but it's the same voice I heard in that changing room. And it was completely wrong!
If I'd stayed in the first shop, I would probably have convinced myself that I was the problem. And gone on my holiday feeling small, inadequate, and guilty (with nothing to wear) - all because someone else had decided that sacrificing people who looked like me was a reasonable business decision.
I've done the same thing countless times in social groups - I think a lot of us do. We absorb the way we're treated as information about our worth, rather than information about the room. We ask "what's wrong with me?" when the more useful question is "what is this particular group actually offering people like me - and is that actually okay with me?" Often, the thing that needs to change isn't us - it's the room we're showing up in. And the way we're thinking about it.
I went on my holiday feeling fabulous - and all because I refused to let the first experience be the defining one. Instead, I tried to find a space in which I wasn't just tolerated, but actively celebrated for being there.
When we tolerate being treated as less than good enough, we're quietly agreeing to it. We might be able to convince ourselves that we're being easy going, tolerant etc.
What we're actually doing is teaching the people around us - and ourselves - that this is what we'll accept.
Think of a group or a friendship circle where you regularly leave feeling smaller than when you arrived. Not because anything dramatic happened. Just that low-grade sense of not quite fitting, not quite being seen, having to shrink a little to be tolerated.
Ask yourself - is this actually about me? Or is this room simply not designed for someone like me to thrive in?
And then - give yourself permission to walk next door. To find a different type of room where the fit is more obvious, easier, more immediate. Those rooms exist. I promise you they do. It doesn't mean everything will be exactly the way you want it to be once you get there (not all the clothes were in my size, and I didn't like some of them!) Or that you don't have a responsibility to work on the relationships with the people in them once you get there - you do. But the starting point will be one where people actually want you to be there. And that counts for so much.
You are not the plus sized person in a shop that only stocks up to the average! And you were definitely never the problem. But you might well have been standing in the wrong types of rooms.
With warmth and friendship,
Hannah x
Hannah Carmichael OBE
Friendship & Connection Coach
