I’ve been thinking a lot about personal style lately. It was even the subject of my last therapy session. I have a bunch of random thoughts that I’m going to put down here but forgive me if this post isn’t smooth and cohesive, because I’m still very much sorting through these ideas.

First, I want to start by defining what I mean by the term ‘personal style’ – what it is, and what it is not:

Personal style is your ability to exercise choice within whatever social, cultural and economic framework you live, in a way that expresses your individuality and uniqueness. Yes, we’re all interconnected and humans have many things in common, but we are individuals. How we choose to present ourselves to the world – in dress, speech, action, posture, dance, glamour, and presence – are important. I actually believe personal style is an unmatched form of creativity, and it should be facilitated and respected regardless of whether or not it is aesthetically pleasing to other people.

What personal style is not, however, is conformity to fashion, trends and industry. It’s not a way of fitting in, getting others to find you attractive, or flaunting your disposable income. It’s not about chasing an idea of what looks good, but about figuring out how you feel best in your own body. It’s not about coving up who you are, but expressing it as clearly and accurately as possible without words. As such, it’s not only about what you put on your body, it’s also about how you hold yourself, engage with others, and otherwise move through the world.

Have you ever seen someone who has incredible personal style? I don’t mean someone who has been styled. I mean, someone who clearly understands who they are, how they look, and what looks good on them. Most of the time these folks tend not to conform to a ‘classic’ Eurocentric heteronormative definition of attractive, but they are undeniably attractive. There’s a confidence to them. They’re fully in their bodies, they’ve made choices that please them, and they’re uninhibited by others’ opinions. I’ve seen this in movie stars. I’ve seen this in service workers. It has nothing – I repeat – NOTHING to do with the age, size, shape, or color of the body. It’s also not about how much money they have. This is something that comes from within. These folks are not comparing themselves to anyone else, because no one can compare.

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what people like this have that I don’t have. What makes a person own their style? After a lot of thought, I’ve come up with one defining characteristic that I think people like this have in common: radical self-acceptance.

Now, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to learn radical self-acceptance. I’ve made a lot of progress. But I’ve never really thought about what it means to practice it when it comes to my appearance. Part of the reason is that it feels superficial. I mean, we’re supposed to focus on the inside, right? We’re not supposed to judge a book by it’s cover. Appearances don’t matter. But they do. They matter to each of us, because our appearance is part of who we are.

The problem is that we’ve all been indoctrinated with superficial ideas about which kinds of appearances are “acceptable” and “good” and “desirable” – thin, white, blonde, tall, physically abled, well-heeled (conforming to current fashion trends), etc. The purpose behind these shitty standards is to create a social hierarchy in which people who are naturally inclined to look this way are at the top. No wonder many women have rejected beauty standards. But in rejecting these standards, I think some of us have rejected all standards for ourselves. It’s either conform (if possible) to a standard that is out of reach for 99% of the human population, or just let it all go and fade into the scenery.

Many of us – myself included – tend to have a half-hearted sense of style that focuses only on the parts of ourselves we deem acceptable and tries to camouflage the rest. The ‘ugly’ and ‘unsightly’ parts of ourselves that we’ve grown to (or been taught to) hate get hidden away. But what would it look like if we opened up and let all those parts of ourselves into the light of day, too?

A few weeks ago I was swimming at Barton Springs Pool, and I was laying out in the sun, enjoying the day. I felt alive, uninhibited, and suddenly I realized that I also felt… beautiful. And not in a ‘sexy glamour puss’ way. Just… pretty. Like a sweet, living thing. I marveled at my smoothness. I admired my shape. It was extraordinary.

At first, I was taken aback. I’m not at all used to feeling beautiful. Not even when I was young and beautiful (and I was) did I ever feel that way. Not even when I was complimented by strangers, or had young men throw themselves at me. Shame, fear, and embarrassment have governed how I present my body to the world for as long as I can remember.

But that day, under a tree by the pool, I did feel beautiful. I’m 50-years-old. Overweight. Pear-shaped. In a bathing suit, in public. And I felt glorious about myself and how I looked. Such was the novelty of this feeling that I started to think about it as I lay there soaking in the rays, and I realized something shocking. I realized that I felt like a child. A young child. Waaaaay back before I became self-conscious, sexualized, carrying the weight of others’ opinions and judgements. Before religion defined womanhood for me. Before boys used their attention as a weapon against me. Back when I would run around in the sprinklers in my swimsuit in the yard, unconcerned about cellulite or wrinkles or pimples or tummy rolls or whether or not I had the same brands as everyone else I went to school with.

I’m not sure how I got there – mentally and emotionally – that day by the pool. But ever since, I’ve been obsessed with trying to get back to it. I want to live there. All day, every day. I want to feel amazing about THIS body. Not the one that I’ll have when I ‘lose 30 lbs’ or buy a new wardrobe, or whatever.

The point of this little story is that I think radical self-acceptance is the key to unlocking our personal sense of style. And that personal style isn’t superficial at all. It’s actually vitally important. It tells the world who we are – and who we’ve chosen to be. It expresses our self-love, our self-worth and our self-respect – broadcasts it to anyone who glances at us, and thus creates both a boundary and an invitation, depending on the viewer. It’s also our most accessible form of creativity.

However, radical self-acceptance isn’t enough. As a creative channel, our personal style has to be an intentional. It requires thought, experimentation, time and energy – same as any other creative endeavor. I do think, though, that once we begin the journey of self-acceptance of our physical selves, the intentionality shows up. Why wouldn’t we want to spent time bringing our exterior into alignment with our internal world? If you love your home, you take care of it. Not just maintaining it’s structure, but decorating, gardening, and tidying it. This is natural, and it comes from a healthy kind of love that is a hallmark of deep appreciation.

Anyway, this is on my mind. I’m listening to myself, these days. Listening to my body and my heart. Paying attention to the things that make me feel good – alive, happy, and beautiful. Because I am. Alive. Happy. Beautiful. In my own very cool and special way.