I've been holding on to some of my big clothes. As I grew out of them, I started folding them neatly and piling them on shelves in the closet in the back bedroom. The piles grew and grew.
At first I was afraid to let them go.
I think I was worried that I'd need them. And it would be stupid to have to go buy big sizes again if I did.
The shelves filled and I reached a point where I just didn't have room to store the stuff anymore. So I began taking a shopping bag or two to Goodwill every month or so. I consciously gave away what I liked least first, hanging on to the more expensive work clothes or the favorite pieces.
This morning I decided it was time for all of it to go buh-bye. I filled about five plastic grocery bags and two larger shopping bags with what was left of both my clothes and Jim's.
Then I saw a pair of those size 20 jeans and I just had to do it.
I put them on. Over the jeans I was wearing. And I burst out laughing, standing in the closet. I could literally pull them out 8 inches from my belly button. I could grab handfuls of denim at each outer thigh.
I ran to a mirror to see what they looked like and I couldn't believe the shape I saw staring back at me. I just couldn't get my head around it.
It's like I almost can't remember looking like that. The proportion of length to width looked so off kilter to me.
I ran to show Jim. To his credit, he didn't laugh. He said, "Holy shit."
The person I see in the mirror now is a different one than the person who wore those pants. While my first instinct was to laugh when I tried them on, looking at those pants now makes me a little sad.
Sad because I remember how bad it felt to feel so bad all the time. And I never want to feel like that again.
We dropped it all off at Goodwill. All except those pants. I'm going to tuck them away to help me remember.
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