Cleaning out my Closet

I have an entire laundry bag full of clothes sitting in my spare bedroom.  These are clothes I love, clothes I have worn, clothes I have picked out of stores full of clothes to compliment my style.  But these clothes don’t fit me anymore.

I’m not the size I use to be.  Injections of steroids, limited mobility and lack of constant exercise will do that.  Not to mention moving in with a boyfriend who happens to have a sweet tooth just like me.  I am not the size I used to be and being able to admit that has been a long time coming.  Sure I realized it a while ago, and of course I knew that my jeans weren’t fitting right and my tops were tugging but when you live the majority of your life in leggings and large sweatshirts to cover swollen joints and swollen limbs it becomes easy to look past the changing form of your body. 

But enough was enough.  I have has enough of looking at dresses and jeans I use to fit into and feeling bad that my body doesn’t look cute in them anymore.  So I bagged them up.  They are going to someone who needs them more than I do, going to the goodwill so that people less fortunate can get some cute clothes and so that my conscious can feel ok about the weight my body has put on.  It still doesnt make it any easier to get up in the morning and realize that your clothing options are greatly limited.  Or to scour the closet looking for something appropriate when I get a call for an interview.  But I am starting to be ok with that.  I am starting to realize that it doesn’t matter what size is on the label in my pants but rather how I feel in them.  And right now wearing a size 12 does not feel very good, a size 14 is pushing it as well.  

My body has changed.  But I am an adult now, and there is no point in crying over a couple extra pounds and a couple old dresses.  I am going to look at this positively, now I have an excuse to go shopping. 

Yours in Pain,
Ginny