Do you overshare?

Glamour Magazine

This weekend, I was surrounded with a gaggle of awesome friends who all looked sexy and awesome and were loaded with compliments and gossip and snarky salty goodness. It was a good weekend, a great weekend actually, and exactly what I needed after a pretty miserable few weeks.

While I was getting ready for one of our numerous social outtings, I threw on a baby doll-type dress and hated how it looked, so I pulled out of my suitcase "the Iron Maiden." It looks like a simple girdle, but in reality, it's closer to a Pretty Hate Machine. In fact, I know from experience that I have to put it on BEFORE doing my hair and makeup because the resulting struggle will turn my face into a sweaty hot mess.

It's so evil that just getting it over your shoulders fills you with all kinds of self-doubt. Maybe it shrunk in the wash? This can't possible fit me! Perhaps tiny little elves snuck into my lingerie drawer and replaced this garment with one that is fifteen sizes too small? Once it snaps over my shoulders and rests in my armpits, I have the new struggle of wrestling it down over my rack. Then it snaps into my waist and I usually stop for awhile, mop my brow, perhaps sit down and do a shot of vodka before trying to reach the pinnacle of Woman Versus Spandex: getting it over my hips and nestled down against my thighs. I've never let anyone witness the fight but I assume it's like those nature films where the boa constrictor has to unhinge its jaw to swallow a pig.

Total elapsed time of putting on the Iron Maiden? Probably only about five minutes, but every damned second is a fight for survival and there's always the danger that the Spandex will snap out of control and knock me unconscious, perhaps severing a limb in the process.

Watch out pal Kim breathlessly struggle her way through her day in pair of Spanx.

Clearly, the Iron Maiden is not every day wear (and honestly, if I had to go through that particular exercise every morning, I can't imagine that I'd need the thing anymore), but once it's on, I love it. I love the way it makes me feel a bit like a superhero, as though my bust and my gut are bullet proof. I love the way that my ass becomes taut, and to smack it is like beating a drum.

Also, when I threw my dress back on, I had about a million times the confidence. When I bumped into my first friend, I almost told her about the girdle, but then I decided not to. Wouldn't it be more alluring to just make it seem like I accidentally just looked awesome? Every time a new person appeared and there was a break in the conversation, I found myself almost talking about the girdle again. What the heck? Finally, when Suzanna complimented me on the dress (it's this one, by the way, and also, on sale now!) I broke and not only regaled her with a description of the Iron Maiden lurking beneath the cuteness, but also made her run her hand along my side so that she could understand the extent of the subterfuge. Why did I do that? Why did I basically dismiss her compliment by attributing all of the glory to some kind of fat sucking device that was happily hidden out of sight? Why? (Get a glimpse of Weetabix's favorite plus-size fashions.)

I found part of the answer in the November Happiness Q&A, when someone asked about their prediliction to overshare and then later regret it. Dr. Catherine Birndorf suggested, in part, "Women often confess personal issues to try to connect with others. That's a good thing--to a point. If you're regretful afterward, you may be telling too much, possibly because you crave deeper relationships." Oooh, ouch, and also, totally looking into my soul! In truth, I trust Suzanna and don't regret that she knew I was wearing a foundation garment, but I do wonder about my need to confess it. Did I feel like I was getting away with something? Was I uncomfortable with the compliment? I know that I'm not the only person to have a hard time accepting a kind word with a simple "thank you." Why do we do that? And why can't I stop?

Related: How far can a single compliment go?

[photo credit: Getty Images]

MORE FROM WEETABIX AND SELF: