Just feeling a bit miserable because my husband has been unexpectedly critical of my appearance today.
I asked him to take a photo of me this morning ( I need it for work purposes) and made an off-the-cuff remark about never looking as good on camera as I do in the mirror. I am 35 and probably holding a mental image in my head of being about seven years younger! However, I don't think I am too bad: tall, size 10 on top, 12 on the bottom (one year after giving birth), wavy/curly/slightly frizzy hair and fairly good skin.
Somehow this seems to have opened up a wave of criticism which all came to a head on a walk this afternoon, including:
How I walk down the pavement eg. I tend to 'give way' to people slightly whereas he feels people should give way for him/us. This can make walks at the weekend rather stressful as I constantly feel as if I am somehow doing it wrong.
The coat I wear - when I am pushing the pram I often put on a ski jacket for practicality in the cold/damp, whereas he thinks I should wear my formal wool winter coat.
That I should take more care of my appearance
That I should make more effort
Why don't I wear makeup?
That I am a nasty, bitchy person - because I told a pavement promoter (who approached us in the middle of all this) that I didn't agree with them promoting that particular product (alcohol) in the street.
That I will end up like our previous next door neighbour - who was a frumpy and fairly bitter woman whom I feel fairly insulted to be compared to.
The thing that hurts is that I felt that I recently had been making more of an effort - I had a big wardrobe clear out a few weeks back and bought a few new items of clothing now that I am back to my pre-maternity size. I often wear skinny jeans, boots, moderately trendy tops. Last weekend I wore a nice skirt/boots combination on Saturday and a dress on Sunday - however he doesn't seem to remember or acknoweldge any of this and has this fixation with the bluddy coat!
Of course I fought back, told him how this was making me feel, that my confidence was at rock bottom after these remarks and that frankly, he was no oil painting himself. I told him that his top was faded, his coat was out of style and his shoes had seen better days. Anyway, it all blew up into a bit of a row so I came home early from our trip out and have more or less left him to it ever since. However, I did remind him that when he was overweight a few years back that I never once criticised him for it and thought he was perfect the way he was - I loved him as he were.
I am not sure what particular advice I need but appreciate the opportunity to vent a little.