This past weekend, one of my best girlfriends was celebrating her birthday. An evening out on the town for dinner and drinks was planned, which of course meant that my typical outfit of yoga pants and a t-shirt would not be acceptable. I ventured into my closet on Saturday evening, looked around … and felt the familiar squeeze of a panic attack coming on. Why? I was standing in the closet of a boring, middle-aged married woman.
I AM NOT A BORING MIDDLE-AGED MARRIED WOMAN (in case you were wondering). But apparently I dress like one. Help! Continue reading