This is a guest post by Kaitlyn Myers. Kaitlyn (she/her/hers) is an active member of Slippery Rock University’s SPARK Club in her senior year as an English major with a Gerontology minor. She’s an advocate for embracing the everyday feelings that make us all human.
My first prom, junior year of high school, 2018. I bought this sweetheart, strapless, black and white striped dress and my then boyfriend wore a contrasting, all white suit. I felt unstoppable, like a princess just missing her tiara.
Over the last month, I've dreamt of wearing that dress again. Maybe to feel beautiful. Maybe to reclaim it for myself. I’m not sure of the exact truth. Either way, when I was home from college, I dug out the dress and unclipped it from its hanger entrapment.
It was still just as gorgeous. And I did try it on, well halfway at least. It wouldn’t zip up the back. And maybe I should be devastated. I’m not though.
My body’s 4 years older. My hips are wider as I’ve grown into young womanhood and admittedly gained some college pounds from the dining hall cupcakes. As I’ve developed my mind, my body’s changed too.
So here’s my eulogy, my remembrance of the perfect dress, then and yes, even now with the back unzipped.
Here’s to a dress of stripes to match my personality type. It’s seen 3 nights as the same steady dress among a new wearer. It wore it all, saw an excited girl who was thrilled to find a dress for her teenage body, a blushing date, a slow dance, and a gratified adult.
The stripes never judge, instead embracing within its tulle whatever version arrives. I say thank you to a dress who’s outdone its time, who saw me grow into an adult who is beyond needing the dress of dreams to visit her in her sleep.
While the memory of joy resides deep, no longer in my slumber will this dress sleep.