I’ve worn primarily black clothing since high school. At 55, that means 40 years of an essentially monochrome wardrobe. In truth, I would have worn black to my wedding if it had been allowed.

I told myself (and everyone else) that it was my style.

I felt New York-ish.

I believed I was choosing for me.

“F*** ’em,” I’d think when my unvarying fashion choice was challenged.

Last summer, I was shopping with my daughter and she handed me a bright green paisley blouse. “This is so you,” she said, and insisted I try it on.

“Who am I, a leprechaun? I don’t think so.”

She persisted – I tried it on – it quickly became my favorite thing to wear.

Pandora’s box was opened.

Over the last 12 months, I have not purchased one black item, and this week I bought my first (maybe ever) non-black occasion dress.

I’m not thin.

I have REALLY big (G cup) boobs.

I’ve always been healthy, and though looking back through the decades, I can see that what I thought I looked like in the moment was often inaccurate – that never altered my need for camouflage.

It’s not that I haven’t been aware that I do it. Of course I am. In fact, I’m very intentional about it.

What’s remarkable to me is that I truly believed I preferred to wear black.

My coping strategy had become a completely separate belief. That belief, in turn, drove choices that limited my options and I felt safer.

This is the way limiting beliefs work.

They’re sneaky.
They’re insidious.
They’re so rock solid that they become invisible.

So, how can you address something you can’t see?

Novelty.

Try new things.
Do the unimaginable.
Become the Bizarro-you for a couple of weeks.

You may not only discover some of your limiting beliefs, but acting outside of them can start to change the root belief.

My new clothes have made me feel good.
Once the belief that “I love wearing black” was overturned, my mind automatically started to challenge the need for the original one.

Maybe I’m not so defective after all.