Last summer, I bought myself a brand new pair of sunglasses. And the shocking part of this story is that I spent more than one dollar on them. Previously, my stylish shades were bought in handfuls of two or three from the dollar store. And I had reasons for this choice, of course.

• I have three very energetic sons, and someone will most likely crack them with a lightsaber before a month is out.

• I lose things. Often.

• I have been known to be less than graceful at times, and wouldn’t be surprised if I dropped, sat on or stepped on a pair of sunglasses as soon as I bought them.

• They’re just sunglasses, and as long as they work to shield my eyes, what’s the difference?

• I avoid shopping for myself as much as possible. Because that’s what moms do.

But this year, as I’ve been examining every large and small choice in my life, I realized that my choice of eyewear was about more than just personal peeper protection.

I’ve come to understand that what I wear–on my face or my body–makes a difference in how I show up in the world. What I wear both reflects and affects how I feel.

And I think that most of us know this on some level. When I'm not feeling well, I wear the most comfortable clothes that I can find. I'm not worried about how it looks or whether it matches. I choose my attire purely based on whether or not it will irritate my skin. When I'm not feeling well, the objective when dressing is to add the least possible irritation to an already irritated body.

When I want to exercise, I choose clothes that will support my body's movement. When I put on activewear instead of loungewear in the morning, I'm more likely to exercise because I'm dressed for activity instead of lounging. This choice alone has been a game-changer in my daily exercise habit, by the way, and I highly recommend it if you have trouble getting motivated in the morning.

My choice of clothing can either reflect my mood or directly influence it. Sometimes, a heavier mood leads me to choose dark and neutral colors as a way to express myself. Sometimes, if I want to lighten my bad mood, I'll choose bright colors on purpose when I don't feel very light. And it makes a difference when I do. There are times I want to wallow in the dark, and there are times I need to shift.

I bought new sunglasses both to reflect a new sense of worthiness I was discovering about myself and to help me to feel a little bit more awesome. And it worked. When I wore my new sunglasses, the world felt brighter. I felt confident and happy that I did something just for me, and I carry myself differently than before as a result.

I've never considered myself to be very fashionable. I have very specific tastes, but not an incredibly well-defined sense of style. I shop mostly secondhand and consignment. I don't follow trends. At all. It can be difficult for other people to buy me clothing–I have been known to exchange basic t-shirts because I didn't care for the font or phrasing of the screen printed message.

These days, however, I'm rebranding my business, moving away from postpartum work, where my preferred uniform was scrubs, jeans or athletic pants and t-shirts, toward coaching powerful professionals and ambitious entrepreneurs. So I've been challenging myself to put together a more cohesive and sophisticated look. Because what I wear is also a form of nonverbal communication.

Spending more than a dollar on sunglasses communicates that I'm someone who invests in herself. Now, I'm not talking Gucci or Versace, here, but there is a distinct difference in quality between the dollar store and your average, mid-range retail brand. When my dollar store sunglasses' color is peeling off, and I continue to wear them anyway, this communicates something, too. Something I'm no longer interested in communicating.

I used to watch the show What Not to Wear regularly. And part of what made that show worth my attention was how the transformation wasn't really about the wardrobe in the end. The new clothes were an avenue for discovering a new sense of self. It was a coming to confidence, a conscious choosing of a new identity and then embodying it.

I started with dresses. I continued with sunglasses. For me, growing into myself has inspired me to take some new fashion risks. I still shop secondhand and consignment. And my tastes are still specific. But I'm daring to try things out that I previously would have dismissed without a second glance. In fact, the last time I went clothes shopping, I bought pants with a snakeskin print. And I have since actually worn them in public. And they make me feel edgy and awesome.

My clothes express both who I am and who I am striving to be.

My clothes reflect and affect how I feel inside.

My clothes communicate with others in ways that words cannot.

I tell stories about my style. My style tells a story about me.

How has your style changed over the years? What struggles do you have when it comes to choosing how to dress?