I believe in the power of the zipper. I believe in the feeling you get when the zipper doesn't pull or nag at you; when it doesn't tease or laugh at the bulge at your waist. I believe in the feeling of euphoria when it just zips up. When it fits to your curves. When it all works out. When you have hoped for the fit time after time and have persistently attacked every department store and corner shop for "the one." When you finally step into the 18th dress, just wanting it to be over, and the universe finally rewards you. "You stuck it out, and for that, the zipper will not mock you this time. Congratulations, this looks nice on you, and you deserve it." It may sound like a silly thing but when the dress fits, so do you. In the bustling sea of retail nonsense, size anxiety and change-every-minute trends, you found yours. And it makes sense to you. You make sense. And then the smile fits. The confidence fits. The deep, relieving sigh fits. And that's what we do, don't we? We keep trying on dresses, ideas, expressions, expectations hoping for the right fit—when our heart's zipper finally is steady and smooth right to the underarm, the core. We hold hands and exchange glances hoping for the fit. Tears may stream down our cheeks when the zipper doesn't budge and fears may explode from its rejection. But just wait. Try another store, person, angle, perspective, attitude. It's there, waiting for you. Your perfect fit. And don't let those tears stay for long, because bitterness can deceive you. Don't let the 17th dress fool you. Keep trying, because that 18th dress, that perfect fit, may be just around the corner.
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