I had a roommate in high school who had a complicated relationship with clothes. I would walk into our room to see a mound of rejected sweaters and jeans, and her wailing.

 

"I have nothing to wear!"

 

She was in fact quite beautiful, and looked great every single day. Which is more than I can say for myself. In fact there was one time when I lost a bet with the president of the fraternity called Phi Alpha, and he had his goons steal my wardrobe. All of it. I walked into the dining hall wearing the same outfit as the day before. He complimented me on it. The next day I had no choice but to wear the same dress. It was an Indian print with puffed sleeves. I had made it over the summer. Eventually the authorities heard about our tussle and mandated that he repent. 

 

But it was fun.

 

My mother was a modest dresser. No plunging necklines or short skirts for her. Except when she was manic. I recall a very tight azure dress with feathers at the throat. I was horrified. 

 

The thing about clothes is, they change. Except for one of my four year old sons who wore the same shorts and t-shirt for a week at a time most of us shuffle it up. But regardless of the package we are in, we are still us underneath. 

 

Sometimes people share with me that they are more aware of the patterns in their marriage. They understand the lines between requests and controlling one another's behavior. It helps to see a distinction between boundaries and manipulation. With the first you say "no". With the latter there are words like "you must". 

 

Often people are aware that these actions are not really representative of their spouse. Underneath the confusing statements, they can see the person they truly fell in love with. That better version is covered up for reasons even they themselves do not know. 

 

In not taking each other's comments personally, we can resist becoming defensive. Which is I suppose the clearest path to becoming beautiful.