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Spring decluttering, and body issues
Mar. 22nd, 2010 01:06 amYesterday I went clothes shopping, and today I went through my wardrobe, doing the usual spring decluttering: Removing everything that does not fit, that is too damaged to wear it even in the house, that I'm tired of, or that I just don't wear anymore.
Both went well. I got everything I was looking for: Green jeans, a light summer jacket, and a red top for the choir. I also bought a role playing game sourcebook, some chocolate Easter eggs, a jean waistcoat, and three bras to fit my new shape. Decluttering produced three boxes full of clothes that do not fit me anymore, and that need to be given to charity, or to people who will like them.
Three boxes. All my smart trousers? Drop when I am not holding them up with both hands. The wide summer shirts? Fall off my shoulders. The woollen winter coat that I rarely wear? Large enough for two of me. Most of the jeans, fortunately, still fit, thanks to the habit of buying them so tight that I can just barely squeeze in, and the fact that I found a belt in the back of the wardrobe that will do as soon as I punch two new holes in it. The linen trousers from last year have drawstrings. Most of the tops are now really loose, but it looks like it's intended that way.
I do not feel three sizes thinner (though not "thin", not even the prescriptive "average"). I feel just the same, only, I'm not. Being fat had become a part of my identity, a part that I didn't especially like, but trained myself out of the habit to freak out about. It was just The Way Things Were. And now they aren't.
People notice. They noticed at my party, they notice in the choir. I cannot lie convincingly anymore and claim that it's an illusion, a good day, a trick of memory, well-fitting clothes, or heels. Everytime someone says, "wow, you've lost weight" I want to swamp them with my self-doubt and issues, but I always remember my manners in time, and only say, "yes", or "yes, I've been doing a lot of strength training last year".
So I'll swamp my LJ instead. Maybe it will declutter my brain.
( Cut for a swamp of TMI, old history, and angsting )
Both went well. I got everything I was looking for: Green jeans, a light summer jacket, and a red top for the choir. I also bought a role playing game sourcebook, some chocolate Easter eggs, a jean waistcoat, and three bras to fit my new shape. Decluttering produced three boxes full of clothes that do not fit me anymore, and that need to be given to charity, or to people who will like them.
Three boxes. All my smart trousers? Drop when I am not holding them up with both hands. The wide summer shirts? Fall off my shoulders. The woollen winter coat that I rarely wear? Large enough for two of me. Most of the jeans, fortunately, still fit, thanks to the habit of buying them so tight that I can just barely squeeze in, and the fact that I found a belt in the back of the wardrobe that will do as soon as I punch two new holes in it. The linen trousers from last year have drawstrings. Most of the tops are now really loose, but it looks like it's intended that way.
I do not feel three sizes thinner (though not "thin", not even the prescriptive "average"). I feel just the same, only, I'm not. Being fat had become a part of my identity, a part that I didn't especially like, but trained myself out of the habit to freak out about. It was just The Way Things Were. And now they aren't.
People notice. They noticed at my party, they notice in the choir. I cannot lie convincingly anymore and claim that it's an illusion, a good day, a trick of memory, well-fitting clothes, or heels. Everytime someone says, "wow, you've lost weight" I want to swamp them with my self-doubt and issues, but I always remember my manners in time, and only say, "yes", or "yes, I've been doing a lot of strength training last year".
So I'll swamp my LJ instead. Maybe it will declutter my brain.
( Cut for a swamp of TMI, old history, and angsting )
