sexy were mutually exclusive concepts, that women who tried to embody both would be judged harshly, and that any previous accomplishments would be immediately dismissed. I learned that most people didn’t care what I did or did not do in actuality; they saw only my outfits, and not the person inside those outfits. It made no sense why I couldn’t be both a good girl and a flirt who loved to show off.
Irritated by the narrow range of acceptable behavior for a smart, good girl and by the burgeoning rumors about my lack of virtue, I decided to rebel. I was tired of covering my intellect, my dorky passions, and my love of dance-inspired clothing. I had lived much of my life according to other people’s standards, constantly seeking praise, and I was done trying to figure it all out and covering certain pieces of my identity.
My mission became to reveal it all! Well, not exactly to reveal my authentic self, because that would mean risking real rejection — I couldn’t take that — but to reveal a bold, sexy, funny, in-your-face version of myself who could never be stung by rejection or rumors or by being misunderstood again. I disconnected from my body and covered the pain of not being seen or accepted for who I was with the wildest, sexiest outfits possible, doing and saying what others only dared to think. Inside I was still a good girl in glasses who wanted to please and be praised. Nothing had changed at all except my clothing, yet changing my clothing changed everything about the way I was perceived. And despite my cavalier, “nobody can hurt me” attitude, the gossip hurt deeply.
My body was not my heart, my soul, or my thoughts. How I showed or covered it had nothing to do with who I was, and I strove to be immune from comments about my virtue or lack of self-worth because of the way I showed off my body. I saw how the roles I played, the costumes I wore, and the labels others assigned to me became more real than who I actually was. If my coverings mattered more than who I was or what I accomplished, then why bother trying?
Embracing the Neutrals
Frustrated by not being seen for who I was inside or for all that I had rightfully accomplished, and confused by the backlash from revealing my body — and tired of working so hard, only to be overshadowed by rumors and falsehoods — I hoped that college could give me a fresh start. I wanted to meet new people who could finally see the real me. Not my corset of perfection from elementary school, not my smart-girl glasses or my denim miniskirt and heels, but me, and everything I was inside.
The only way I could think of to accomplish this was to let go of every costume, mask, role, or identity I had ever embodied. I strove to become neutral, transparent, flat, and free of any type of covering or enhancement that could cause people to judge me in any way. I quit dancing, gained the “freshman fifteen,” and began rolling out of bed and heading to class exactly as I was. I cut off my permed and frosted hair and tossed my makeup, and instead of being enthusiastic and perky, which were my normal, natural traits, I intentionally cultivated a personality that was free of personality.
Which did not allow me to be seen authentically any more than wearing a bikini to choir had. Instead, it caused me to disconnect so completely from everything that had ever brought me joy that I lost all sense of who I was or what I liked. My quest for transparency led me straight into nothingness. Without any cover, who was I, and what could I possibly be worth?
Learning to Accessorize
Unsure of who I was or what I wanted, I quit school and moved home. As summer was drawing to a close and I still had zero idea who I was supposed to be, a friend called me in a panic. One of the girls on her university’s pom squad had dropped out, and they needed one more dancer for camp the following week. My inner compass locked in immediately. My direction had found me! I wanted to dance, and I wanted to go back to college.
I was going to quit covering and judging myself, quit seeking approval and being embarrassed for who I was and what I found important. I was going to stop worrying about what other people might think. I was going to show my body, my brains, and my beliefs my way. I was going to build my dreams and live my sparkle. I was ready, and I couldn’t wait to dive in!
This is how I uncovered myself, found my sparkle, and, for the first time in my life, released judgment about who I was — who I thought I was supposed to be — and stepped fully into my Naked Self-Worth. This is how I came back to life, challenged myself with every opportunity I could find, and ended up going to law school. Nothing was going to stop me now!
My Adulthood: The Power Woman in the Conservatively Cut Navy-Blue Business Suit
Nothing was going to stop me. . .except myself. I wish I could say that I remained so connected to who I was that I was never undone by my inhibitions or self-judgment again, but that was not the case. Which is why FLAUNT! is a practice to be gently but vigilantly embodied throughout our lives. In order to transcend our stories, to become the kind of women we aspire to be instead of the kind of women created by default by the sum total of our masks, we must stay vigilant. We must reveal ourselves fully and allow ourselves to be seen. And most importantly, we must abide by our own internal valuation system.
During my last year of law school, I was accepted in the university’s student-law office, a program where students represent low-income clients under the supervision of licensed attorneys. In one of my cases, I represented a couple who purchased a used car from a dealership but quit making payments when the wife lost her job. Although my advisor and I had gone through the entire case file, the night before the hearing I went back to the law library to do some more research. Just in case.
Poring over case law, I discovered that there were various notice requirements the dealership had to fulfill before repossessing the car, and those notice requirements had not been met.
You probably know how it feels when you have a secret that is so joyful and thrilling that you can barely sleep? That’s how I felt! I had found something that had been missed by everyone. I was ecstatic! I was going to win the very first case I had ever tried!
The next morning, even though I had barely slept, I put on my best (only) conservatively cut navy-blue suit, spent an hour on understated yet elegant hair and makeup, and made sure that I had all the necessary research and files. Beaming, I entered the courtroom with my advisor and presented both opposing counsel and the judge with a memo explaining what I had found.
After a couple of tense minutes, the judge banged his gavel and ruled in favor of my clients, who gave a whoop of joy as I broke into a relieved smile. I had done it! Looking up, I caught the judge’s eye. He pointed straight at me and said, “I want to see you in my chambers now!” And he was not smiling.
Confused, I followed him to his chambers, where, instead of congratulating me, he berated me for unfairly springing my research on opposing counsel, an older, established (male) attorney, and for making him look ill prepared in court. He told me he didn’t like the way I was all smiles with my clients. He explained that if I wanted to be taken seriously, I should wear pants, instead of a skirt. He also suggested I wear my hair up.
Have you ever had an experience that was so shocking that you didn’t even know how to respond? Frozen to my advisor’s side, I stood, incredulous. My smackdown was not the only source of my dismay. I was floored at the way my advisor respectfully kowtowed to the judge to his face, but later, outside his chambers, told me how out of line and flat-out wrong he had been. I drove home, mortified and confused, not registering for several hours that I had won my first case and should be proud of what I had accomplished.
If you have ever worked or played in traditionally more male-dominated arenas, you may have been confronted with the same decision I was: to play by the rules, fit in with the good old boys, and succeed or to be your true self and risk losing out on the career that you rightfully deserve. Because I wanted to succeed, I covered,
