Many blog posts ago, I wrote about Dressing Your Truth and how it changed my life. It didn’t just change my life in a nice, fun way, it changed it in a deep, all-encompassing, profound way. When I first learned about Dressing Your Truth, I had tasted a crumb, and became eager to swallow the whole five-layer cake at once.
I loved everything the company stood for. They healed people just by giving them information about themselves. This information is true and life-changing. And on top of changing my life, they guided me toward wardrobe and make-up choices I would enjoy.
When I got an email saying they were hiring in their store, I knew, just knew, they had to hire me. How could they not? We were perfect for each other. This was a job that could become my Home. I envisioned growing with the company (maybe even writing for them one day?). I even imagined my husband working there. We would become part of the Dressing Your Truth family.
So I updated my resume to sound like the perfect employee. I made a video (like they requested). I met the manager and personally handed her my resume and shook her hand feeling like this was in the bag. They would love me like I loved them.
I waited by the phone, knowing they would call me any minute…any minute now.
I got an email a week later, saying they hired someone else for the job, without even interviewing me!
Eventually, I recovered from this rejection. (Even though we would have made beautiful music together.) I continued patronizing and believing in Dressing Your Truth, without (many) hard feelings.
Months later, long after my exclusion from Dressing Your Truth, and moving on with other things, I was driving home and had a strong impulse to go to the Dressing Your Truth store. I had a $15 credit I could use there.
On the long drive, I kept asking myself why I was going to the store. Other stores were closer and I wasn’t much in the mood for shopping. But it just felt right at that moment. Whenever I feel strongly about doing something, good things are sure to follow. So I followed my impulse, and wondered what good things would come of it.
What if all the important people are there shooting a video and they meet me and…I couldn’t think of an ending to that sentence. What if the manager is there and she offers me a job? That didn’t make sense. What if…Really, nothing made sense. If I were single I would image I was going to meet the man of my dreams, but that was over and done with. I knew I was doing the right thing, but was pretty sure nothing would happen except spending my $15 credit.
Upon arriving, I glanced at myself in my car window. This was not an attractive day for me, but whatever, I was supposed to be here and I was here. I walked into the store, expecting maybe fireworks or something, but it was empty and quiet, as usual. I wandered around, checking prices. They were pretty steep.
I glanced at the overflow room where they usually kept the sale racks and the doors were closed. Maybe all the important people were shooting a video in there. The parking lot was pretty full for such an empty store.
Usually I liked everything in this store, but today, I couldn’t find anything, and I was feeling headachy and dreary.
The longer I looked, the more dismal I became. I hated everything.
Suddenly the overflow door opened and one of the Important Dressing Your Truth people came out. She smiled at the room and said, “Hi!”
I don’t remember responding, my face felt like frozen putty.
Moments later, another Important Dressing Your Truth person came out. She was someone I saw on most of the videos, and in real life she looked incredible. I looked into the room and saw the COO of the company, and then the door swung shut. The girl and I looked at each other for a moment before she left the store and I continued shopping. I felt really ugly.
I thought about all the Dressing Your Truth people in that room with the door shut and me on the outside. As much as I loved them, respected them and wanted to be a part of them, none of them wanted me.
I bought an $18 necklace and drove away, wondering what that whole experience was about. I knew Dressing Your Truth wasn’t my Home months ago, but having it shoved in my face again like that just made me angry. I get it! I don’t belong there! I knew that already!
I thought going to the store would be a good experience, even life-changing? But instead I left feeling angry and unwanted. And yet the whole thing seemed important somehow. So I continued pondering it, as I seethed.
There was the girl. The important Dressing Your Truth girl. She was everything I had always strived to be in life: stylish, cool, career-oriented, wearing high-heels. A perfect type 3. But I wasn’t a type 3. I never had been and I never would be. (It makes sense if you know Dressing Your Truth.) Type 3 girl had the Home I had imagined for myself. It was as though I was looking into a mirror of the future with a big, red X stamped over it. She had found my ideal Home, stuck her flag in it and declared it hers. I wasn't her, and Dressing Your Truth wasn't my home.
A few weeks later I had a dream that I was looking for homes on the internet. When I found one that seemed ideal, I would suddenly be living there.
I was living in a beautiful mansion in France, but a woman was there and she was always in my way. I lived with my parents, and my room was full of spiders. I was buying a home with a random woman in my neighborhood.
The following night, the dream house-hunt continued. I lived with my brother and his wife. I lived in someone’s yard next to their swimming pool. I lived in a model home where they kicked me out and locked the doors every night.
All of these situations held the same message: This is not your Home.
I get it! I get the message; all of them! When will I get the message that I have found Home?
The search continues…
I loved everything the company stood for. They healed people just by giving them information about themselves. This information is true and life-changing. And on top of changing my life, they guided me toward wardrobe and make-up choices I would enjoy.
When I got an email saying they were hiring in their store, I knew, just knew, they had to hire me. How could they not? We were perfect for each other. This was a job that could become my Home. I envisioned growing with the company (maybe even writing for them one day?). I even imagined my husband working there. We would become part of the Dressing Your Truth family.
So I updated my resume to sound like the perfect employee. I made a video (like they requested). I met the manager and personally handed her my resume and shook her hand feeling like this was in the bag. They would love me like I loved them.
I waited by the phone, knowing they would call me any minute…any minute now.
I got an email a week later, saying they hired someone else for the job, without even interviewing me!
Eventually, I recovered from this rejection. (Even though we would have made beautiful music together.) I continued patronizing and believing in Dressing Your Truth, without (many) hard feelings.
Months later, long after my exclusion from Dressing Your Truth, and moving on with other things, I was driving home and had a strong impulse to go to the Dressing Your Truth store. I had a $15 credit I could use there.
On the long drive, I kept asking myself why I was going to the store. Other stores were closer and I wasn’t much in the mood for shopping. But it just felt right at that moment. Whenever I feel strongly about doing something, good things are sure to follow. So I followed my impulse, and wondered what good things would come of it.
What if all the important people are there shooting a video and they meet me and…I couldn’t think of an ending to that sentence. What if the manager is there and she offers me a job? That didn’t make sense. What if…Really, nothing made sense. If I were single I would image I was going to meet the man of my dreams, but that was over and done with. I knew I was doing the right thing, but was pretty sure nothing would happen except spending my $15 credit.
Upon arriving, I glanced at myself in my car window. This was not an attractive day for me, but whatever, I was supposed to be here and I was here. I walked into the store, expecting maybe fireworks or something, but it was empty and quiet, as usual. I wandered around, checking prices. They were pretty steep.
I glanced at the overflow room where they usually kept the sale racks and the doors were closed. Maybe all the important people were shooting a video in there. The parking lot was pretty full for such an empty store.
Usually I liked everything in this store, but today, I couldn’t find anything, and I was feeling headachy and dreary.
The longer I looked, the more dismal I became. I hated everything.
Suddenly the overflow door opened and one of the Important Dressing Your Truth people came out. She smiled at the room and said, “Hi!”
I don’t remember responding, my face felt like frozen putty.
Moments later, another Important Dressing Your Truth person came out. She was someone I saw on most of the videos, and in real life she looked incredible. I looked into the room and saw the COO of the company, and then the door swung shut. The girl and I looked at each other for a moment before she left the store and I continued shopping. I felt really ugly.
I thought about all the Dressing Your Truth people in that room with the door shut and me on the outside. As much as I loved them, respected them and wanted to be a part of them, none of them wanted me.
I bought an $18 necklace and drove away, wondering what that whole experience was about. I knew Dressing Your Truth wasn’t my Home months ago, but having it shoved in my face again like that just made me angry. I get it! I don’t belong there! I knew that already!
I thought going to the store would be a good experience, even life-changing? But instead I left feeling angry and unwanted. And yet the whole thing seemed important somehow. So I continued pondering it, as I seethed.
There was the girl. The important Dressing Your Truth girl. She was everything I had always strived to be in life: stylish, cool, career-oriented, wearing high-heels. A perfect type 3. But I wasn’t a type 3. I never had been and I never would be. (It makes sense if you know Dressing Your Truth.) Type 3 girl had the Home I had imagined for myself. It was as though I was looking into a mirror of the future with a big, red X stamped over it. She had found my ideal Home, stuck her flag in it and declared it hers. I wasn't her, and Dressing Your Truth wasn't my home.
A few weeks later I had a dream that I was looking for homes on the internet. When I found one that seemed ideal, I would suddenly be living there.
I was living in a beautiful mansion in France, but a woman was there and she was always in my way. I lived with my parents, and my room was full of spiders. I was buying a home with a random woman in my neighborhood.
The following night, the dream house-hunt continued. I lived with my brother and his wife. I lived in someone’s yard next to their swimming pool. I lived in a model home where they kicked me out and locked the doors every night.
All of these situations held the same message: This is not your Home.
I get it! I get the message; all of them! When will I get the message that I have found Home?
The search continues…