SLIDER

Monday, October 17, 2016

Goodbye, Target

Dearest Target,

You and I both know it has been a long time coming; it is officially time we go our separate ways. I know, I know, I'm sad, too. It's just that, and I don't know any other way to say this, you're no good for me.   

They say you should surround yourself with those that bring out your best. Those that make you want to be a better person. Those that actually help you become a better version of yourself. Sure, I often think the new work shirts will round out my wardrobe making me look more professional. The new jeans will finally be the ones that I'm comfortable in, no longer worried about the size or appearance of my ass and thighs. The kids clothes will make my adorable daughter even more so. The cute newborn onesie or toddler dress or boys hoodie for my niece or friends' kids will somehow make me a better friend. The seasonal kids books will make my Bean happy to get "presents," and thus make me a better mom. New towels will look better in the downstairs bathroom, are nicer for guests, and somehow then make me a better hostess. The plastic tubs and wall hooks and picture frames and shelves and baskets and desk organizers are all essential for my household, somehow being the final necessary touch, maybe allowing me that sense of control over my home, and probably my life, that I'm yearning for.

 But it's just a facade. A consumer trick. Your store's slight of hand.

What you purport to sell, at face value, is clothing and housewares and groceries and baby products. But what you are using to sell these goods is a subconscious promise that somehow each and every product is the one we all need to make ourselves better. To get where we're going. A sense of improving our homes, our appearances, our families, our selves, our whole lives. 

But those feelings of "better" - of control - only last as long as I'm in your world, enraptured with latest deals on staple tank tops, current book releases, seasonal home decor.

I'm just now understanding that I can't actually buy solutions to my feelings. New clothes don't actually make me feel better in my body, for any sustainable period of time. Organizational tools for our common areas don't actually make me feel any more in control of my family's life. New calendars and day planners and notebooks and pens don't actually help me feel any closer to my professional goals. A new yoga mat doesn't actually make me practice yoga at home any more than before. New plastic bins don't make me any more motivated to organize and clean our mess of a basement. New mascara doesn't actually make my eyes any bigger or less tired-looking, doesn't make me feel any prettier. New picture frames don't make my walls any more appealing than before, they don't actually distract me from the more important and laborious housework on my to-do list. New headphones don't make me more eager to run in the cold and rain. New kids movies don't make me feel any better about my daughter's screen time. New Frozen puzzles don't make my daughter need less attention from me. New blenders don't make my smoothies taste any better, or increase my consumption of kale. You can't, actually, buy anything of true value.

If I want to feel good in my skin? I need to find and do exercise I love. I need to practice gratitude for my health and body on a daily basis. I need to take care of my skin (not pick) and floss daily. I need to eat regular meals at the kitchen table, always incorporating a fruit or veggie. I need to focus my energy on the beauty that already surrounds me, both in people and in nature. I need to ignore women's magazines or appearance-focused social media. I need to hug my husband and cuddle my daughter.

If I want to feel more in control? I need to first accept that I'm not, in fact, in control of much. And then use my brain and the tools I already have - paper, a good pen, and an iPhone are all anyone really needs - to best manage time, priorities, things. I need to focus on "less as more." I need to turn inward, not outward. Take time daily to reflect. Spend quality, mindful time with my loved ones, doing my hobbies, taking care of the things I already have. "Running errands" can't be my sense of purpose. My way to feel useful. I need to reflect on what actually makes me feel worthy.

If I want to feel good, numb out, distract myself, treat myself, have fun? Well, that's a work in progress. Research says I should meditate, or rest, or take a walk, or talk to a friend. Right now I'm turning to TV, because I have a show that brings me actual laughter and joy (thanks, Mindy). And there is always candy. I am also keeping reading in my arsenal. And exercise. And music. And coffee shops. And creativity, whether crafts with the Bean, or some kind of bigger project for myself.

So, Target, it's definitely time we part ways. It's time I face that you don't actually sell what I'm in the market for. But, no hard feelings. You keep doing you - wowing shoppers with the dollar section, getting new clothes faster than I can run my weekly "errands," displaying your select books in a way that makes me want to spend the rest of the evening cuddled and reading in front of the fire. I didn't cut up my REDcard, but tucked it safely into a folder in my file cabinet, out of harm's way. (I suppose that's a bit like keeping an ex on the back burner, which I hear could make me a narcissist), I'd like to imagine a time when we could be together again. It would have to be different between us, of course. My time with you would have to be short and limited, and with a well-defined purpose. Like for toothpaste or new big girl undies or school supplies. But in the meantime, I think Mr. Fred Meyer is better for me. He doesn't try anything too fancy, but still meets all my basic needs.

Breakups are hard. Even if we both know what's best for us. I know you have thousands of others, so you'll hardly notice my absence. And while a part of me will miss you, I'm also feeling pretty optimistic about how many better things there are out there. You're great and all, for a store, but you're hardly everything. And I will no longer treat you as such.

Goodbye, Target. You've used a lot of my hard-earned money, but you've also taught me a lot about myself.

Kindly, Jo

1 comment:

  1. Good for you! Quitting Target is a beast, but I know you can do it! I think there are Target anonymous groups around town to offer support during your initial withdrawal period, if not, I'm happy to send you accountability texts to make sure you aren't falling off the wagon. You got this!

    *Neutrogena mascara is proven to make everyone's lashes better, but luckily it's available at Fred Meyer

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