As part of my plan to get rid of “stuff”, I began pulling totes of old clothes out of storage. All of the clothes looked brand new (probably because most of them are) since I hadn’t seen them in probably a year. And they are SO cute. And all of them are too small.
It made me feel very sad. A lot of these clothes hold memories. There’s the Underarmour shirt I wore when running a 5K during a vacation in Florida.
The Calvin Klein shirt I was so thrilled to be able to fit in and that I wore on a dinner date for my birthday with hubby.
Shirts that I worked hard to finally to fit into.
I could hardly believe that I actually fit into some of the clothes at some point. They look so small compared to what I am wearing now.
And they reflect me and my style—something I have not been able to really express for quite a while with the added weight. It’s hard finding clothes that reflect me in the plus size section and besides, I don’t want to spend the money on clothes I don’t want to admit that I fit in again.
I feel like I am hidden somewhere in this body beneath all of the fat. Those clavicles are still there. That look of accomplishment and happiness with myself can be found again. The energy can be found again.
I’m in there somewhere. I just need to find “me” again.
