This Summer Is Getting Whatever Body I Give It

This week a couple different things happened: the CDC shifted its stance on wearing masks (fully vaccinated people don’t need to wear them in most situations) and the dreary cold spring weather New York has been having finally broke, resulting in a streak of actually sunny 70-degree days. With the caveat that there is still very much a pandemic happening, it feels like…normal spring again? I can’t believe it either. But I did what one would do to mark such an occasion: blew off the dust on my Resy app, opened it up, and booked a patio table for my friends for dinner Friday night.

Friday afternoon rolled around and I found myself standing in front of my closet in a familiar state, trying on every dress I own to determine what I should wear for an ultimately inconsequential gathering. But this time felt regressive, even bad — I felt utterly adolescent in my body insecurities and had a silent little pathetic breakdown about how the dresses I’ve worn every spring and summer for years seemed to fit differently on me after 14 months in quarantine. I mean, they mostly still fit, and I’m having a hard time distinguishing how much has actually changed about my body, versus how much my body dysmorphia is simply working overtime after a year of mostly being perceived through my laptop camera in Google Hangouts meetings. Regardless, after one calendar year spent mostly living in leggings, putting myself into normal clothes doesn’t really feel good.