Modeling Awards: Outfit Post: Dressing rooms, crying, and why I'm over it.

I'm not big on crying in public. Don't misunderstand - I am perfectly comfortable with expressing emotion. I just prefer to save my crying jags for the privacy of my own home. I occasionally tear up while listening to a heart-wrenching song on the radio, or after watching a sentimental television commercial, or during an affectionate moment with one of my children. I've cried while on the phone with a family member, and am quickly reduced to tears after an argument with my husband. And sometimes I cry for no reason at all. I've experienced those hysterical silent sobs where you can't catch your breathe and are gasping for air while your chest heaves and OH MY GOD I THINK I'M GOING TO DIE, LIKE LITERALLY DIE. I am a lifetime member of the heart-on-sleeve club, and have learned to accept my propensity for tears.

While I consider public crying a no-no, tearing up in dressing rooms is another story. Off the top of my head, I can rattle off six times I've cried in a dressing room:

Two weeks ago: Goodwill, Dallas location. J Crew silk babydoll dress. Tag clearly said it was a size zero, but I believed this to be false as the dress had an empire waist, appeared roomy, and J Crew has a propensity towards vanity sizing. Alas, it was accurate. I became a little tearful both in the dressing room AND in my car on the way home.
Twenty-five years ago: Bloomingdale's lingerie department. My mother had taken me for my first bra fitting. I stood in the dressing room, quaking with fear and trembling with cold (why are dressing rooms always freezing? Are we meant to lose feeling in our extremities when trying on clothes?) Saleswoman emerges with four innocuous-looking training bras. All of which are too small. Saleswoman's reaction: "Hmmm, I'm usually great at judging sizes. But you're much...larger than other girls your age." My mom sighed indifferently while tears rolled down my cheeks.
Thirteen years ago: Macy's bridal salon. Combed through the racks and found a lace ballgown with a sweetheart neckline, simple crepe bodice, and buttons down the back. Knew immediately after trying it on that it was the dress I was meant to have, and openly wept in my plush virginal-white dressing room. (The bridal attendant calmly handed me a box of Kleenex and went onto the next bride. Apparently this sort of thing happens all the time.)
Twenty-one months ago, fresh home from a month-long inpatient hospital stay for anorexia, I made the foolish mistake of trying on clothes that swam on me before entering treatment. But this time, everything was too tight. I locked myself in the bathroom for an hour sobbing and gave serious thought to suicide.
Six weeks ago, Salvation Army, Plano location. Went thrifting with an extremely petite, younger friend. Pulled on a pair of high-waist vintage denim shorts that were exactly like the pair she looked adorable in. The effect was not the same on me.
Eleven years ago, Motherhood Maternity. Am nine months pregnant, swollen to the point where my only options in footwear are flip-flops, and am shopping for a formal maternity dress. Self explanatory.

Oh, the complexities of being a woman. If we're not thinking about clothes, or buying clothes, or thinking about clothes we want to buy, or trying on clothes, or wishing we fit into our old clothes, we might be crying. Crying because our ex-boyfriend is dating our former best friend; crying because got a bad grade on a paper; crying because we skipped a workout and feel badly about ourselves; crying because we're watching the Notebook and who doesn't cry while watching the Notebook; or crying because those adorable shoes at Anthropologie have not gone on sale yet and WTF Anthropologie???

Women cry, on average, four times as often as men - according to University of Minnesota neurologist William Frey, an average of 5.3 times per month, compared with 1.4 times for men. This isn't just a function of cultural training. Women actually produce far more prolactin, the hormone responsible for milk production that also controls the neurotransmitter receptors in our tear glands. Women’s tear ducts are also anatomically different from male tear ducts, resulting in a larger volume of tears. A propensity to cry is, in part, biologically driven.

I'm hopeful that my days of crying in dressing rooms are on the wane. As I become more accepting of my body, I realize that there are silhouettes that just aren't going to work for me, and that's okay. I will never be a size zero, and that's fine as well. From now on, I'll save the tears for sappy movies and sad songs and heart-tugging moments with my kids. I may occasionally cry at the airport, or the cash register. But crying in a dressing room? Over it.

Have you ever cried in a dressing room? What caused it? Can you remember other times that you've cried in public? Do you consider yourself a crier, or are you more inclined to choking back tears and holding things in?