DAMMIT, I SHOULDA SUCKED IN!

"UGH, MY STOMACH SHOWS - DAMMIT, I SHOULDA SUCKED IN!"

This was my instantaneous thought peering into the cell phone. I didn't say it out loud, I swallowed the words on their way out, but only because they were interrupted by the two other sound bytes. It felt like slow motion...

I heard my own thought diving at myself like a screeching hawk, as stated above: "UGH, MY STOMACH SHOWS - DAMMIT, I SHOULDA SUCKED IN!"

I simultaneously heard Lori's words wafting above us, like the vague smell of something pleasant and far away... ""You two look SO AMAZING! Oh My Gosh, LOOK at this photo of you two!!!!" She was gleefully holding the photo out to us like a beaming kid showing off her latest crayon masterpiece.

At the same time I also heard my other friend (the one in the photo with me) inches from my ear, as we were huddled over the cell phone together. Her voice rang out in a statement that shocked me given her petite frame (like so small I look sort of giant-ish in pictures with her and I'm only 5'6" & a Medium): "Oh! My stomach looks poochy!"

And I SAW IT: WHAT WE DO TO OURSELVES.

Lori is right. It's a beautiful picture. We are both dressed in white, as it's a "white" party. We are both blondes, wearing red lipstick, and we are standing in front of a red painting creating the backdrop. It's actually a spontaneous work of art & we are the two lovely subjects, our genuine smiles boosting the effect. 

And in the moment of being offered a glimpse of the beauty that we contribute to life, we IMMEDIATELY - like a predator so deeply instinctual that is has NO ability to intercept it's own flurry of fangs and claws when presented with live prey - SHRED OURSELVES. It actually makes me well up with that throat lump of tears right here at the laptop. She and I BOTH, with lightening-quick reflexes, zoomed in with laser-like precision on any weakness we could find on OURSELVES. If we were hawks, the mouse is a goner, but the mouse is us.

We are evolved women, the little band of friends that descended on the "white" party. We are kind and supportive to each other, we truly believe the others "rock," and we compliment each other with sincerity as Lori did. With other sub-sets of my women friends, it is the same. Like attracts like. 

Un-evolved women (let's call them "girls" versus "women") are "catty" - mean to each other. They pounce on each other, scanning photos for how crappy the others look, and lick their lips with satisfaction when the find the juicy nuggets of "her ass is bigger than mine," or "her extensions look totally fake." They form alignments with each other quickly, but are also quick to turn, attack each other, and create replacement alignments. I think they are featured in most reality TV shows; I refuse to watch them.

Men talk about it openly, aghast, "Wow, chicks are so harsh on each other, mean behind each others' backs." (They're talking about the un-evolved ones, which seem to be the norm, not the exception). When dudes have a problem with another dude, they throw a couple of punches or call each other an ass hole, and then go get a beer together.

What I saw is that what I'm terming Evolved Women don't go after each other - they devour THEMSELVES.  And even weirder, they do it while simultaneously defending their friends from their respective self-attacks. "Huh-uh, GIRL, you look INCREDIBLE, what are you talking about??! I wish I had your _____ (insert body part or physical attribute).  

Case in Point: Elevator in Denver. My friend is wearing shorts, her long, toned, tanned legs naturally extend up to her boobs. She's tall, so in the small space of the elevator packed with 6 women with her near the front, her legs are more overtly beautiful than ever. I speak the obvious, how amazing they are, the others nod their heads with all eyes on the legs, murmuring in agreement. And there it is - she denies it, tries to pass it off to the high-heeled wedges she has on, as if what we see is an optical illusion. I call B.S. on that out loud - I know she's a runner, and that consistent effort plus great God-given structure has produced these lovely masterpieces (If legs transformed to that in those shoes, we'd all work out in them, shower in them, sleep in them...).  I'd like to believe, for HER sake, that she DOES actually know how amazing they are, and she's just trying to be kind to the rest of us with mere mortal legs.  But sadly, I'd bet when she looks down, she really DOESN'T see what we all saw in that elevator, because I'd bet her inner fangs and claws shredded the image.

Makes me wonder... Is the chick thing just a lingering deep, dusty DNA drive to compete for the best genes in the caveman pool? Survival of the species / genetically leaving a legacy would demand it. And the Evolved Women, since it hasn't fully receded from the primal programming yet, have we elevated the instinct by merely spinning the shred instinct onto ourselves?  Are we just not yet far enough out of the cave to be entirely without it? Is it a part of us that is functionally extinct but hasn't yet evolved away, like our currently-unnecessary appendix? 

All the older women in the "crone" phase of life (that's not derogatory), or the free-lover women that see themselves, FOR REAL, all the time, as "Goddesses," will assure me that my friends and I just need more self-love. I got that - it would be/will be awesome. However, if I were THERE, I wouldn't have been moved to create a blog entitled DefensiveDressing.com. I wouldn't be... Defensive. There would be no perceived attacker against which to Defend myself. If I didn't already know before this Matrix-moment, the attacker is ME.  Looks like we gals still have some fang and claw filing to do.