My Dress-Up Doll Resigned

Day 279

My dress-up doll husband has resigned. I am trying really hard not to feel rejected or offended. My choosing clothes for my husband, my entire family for that matter, had just become part of who we are. Or, who we were. 

As I have stated (whined) previously, I knew that I could satisfy shopping urges by buying any clothes therefore I had to make the choice to buy NO clothes, shoes or accessories, even as gifts. In my role as "hub of the home" (or center of the universe?) I chose and shopped for all clothing for my husband and son, and most of the clothing for my daughter and grandson. It began as convenience. Who had time to scour the stores seeking the perfect looks? I did! And, I considered myself a super bargain-hunter, with super-good taste. This was best for the family. It turned into me unconsciously determining what everyone should wear. It culminated with my husband, because he so attractive and easy to dress, becoming my dress-up doll of sorts. Almost everything I brought home looked fabulous on him.

Over the past nine months, my husband discovered that he had quite a collection crammed in his closet. As things wore out, he simply looked a little deeper and, voila! more stuff. As a result, he has shopped for himself exactly twice in nine months. Last week, my husband decided he needed a couple of new belts. Miraculously, a really great Parisian coupon arrived in the mail. He planned on stopping at the store after work and since I had the coupon, I agreed to meet him there and we both agreed that I would offer no input whatsoever. None. 

As we perused men's wear, my pocket smoking with a 50% off coupon, I felt the familiar urges. I saw many wonderful things he would look so fine in (the hot fine). I decided that I would abstain from verbal or physical input, but I didn't rule out psychic input. We would walk by some fab sweaters and my mind would scream, "Grab it! Grab it!" He picked up a shirt and I projected, "Nooooooo!" It wasn't working. I tried harder, concentrating until I'm sure my face was entirely screwed up. No messages got through. Less than an hour later, I was completely exhausted and he left with two belts and a questionable shirt. 

Because the transaction was complete, I blurted out, "You didn't select anything I would have chosen! You picked up the wrong things!" He just looked at me. "Why didn't you buy that awesome sweater? Am I losing my touch? Has this time of abstinence caused a lapse in my fashion judgement?" This was serious. 
He simply said, "I didn't like it." 
Huh? Panicky, I asked, "So you don't like the clothes I pick out for you?" 
"Not really."

Not really? "So you don't want me to shop for you, even when I can?" 
"No thank you." 
It is very, very hard to quell the rejection. I am working to avoid taking this personally. This is a good thing. It just doesn't feel like it yet.