Tonight I had a breakdown. It involved some tears, some denim, and some ice cream.
Even as far as I am in my recovery, I find some things hard. Putting the tub of ice cream away (and recognizing that it’s OKAY to have ice cream, if you’re hungry and that’s what you want, but if you’re feeding something else, it’s not going to make you feel very good after). Cleaning out my closet.
(100% necessary to include that)
The good news is, my jeans drawer is pared down and looks neat (I even fit my dress pants in there):
The bad news is…it took me a while to get there (thanks for the support–you know who you are!). I have done this before: cleaned out my closet and faced the decision of whether or not to keep the bigger pants, the smaller pants, or the pants that I can’t remember why or when I bought (white ripped jeans, anyone?).
Where I’m at right now, the hardest is finding that a lot of the clothes I thought would be the ones that fit me for a long long while are actually too small. With shirts, it’s not so bad (they’re cheap and they are more forgiving). With jeans, it’s a whole different story. Right now, I have a variety of jeans sizes. The ones in the drawer are the ones that fit. The rest I am taking out. I don’t want them in my life. If it comes down to it, I will buy new ones. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again. It’s not like I don’t like shopping…
But how can you throw away all that money?
Sure, I have a feeling I might be a little…bloated…right now. I’ve been erring on the side of overeating (with some bingeing that I know is not the end of the world but still FEELS LIKE CRAP) and it’s winter. The combo of less exercise, more goodies, and cold weather means my body changes. That’s fine. I assume if I stop bingeing (WHEN I stop bingeing), I might find that my body adjusts and settles into a happy weight (because right now, I’m not “happy” with the way I’m eating and thus am not yet at my “happy” weight) and that might mean that the jeans that make me feel like CRAP when I see them now might fit again. Might. It seems like a pretty big price to pay–seeing them and feeling “fat” or like I need to control my body to get back into them–along the way, doesn’t it?
I borrowed Peter Walsh’s It’s All Too Much and was amazed at how RIGHT he is. Just concerning my clothing, he said we wear 20% of our stuff 80% of the time. SO TRUE. He also talks throughout the book about the difference between cost and value. Sure, it’s a great value to get half price jeans that are a little to snug. But what’s the cost of having them around? What if they drain you and bring you down every morning when you see them? What if the fact that you have 20 pairs to choose from and each are emotionally laden is making you miserable?
So, I whittled it down to the stuff that fits NOW and put the rest off to the side. Donating them seems like the best option right now. FYI, there’s 8 pairs in that drawer, FYI, but I think I own about 40. That’s ridiculous. I would almost rather hide it from you all, but I’m not big on hiding things. I am not even counting the pairs that are somewhere in storage that are bigger and that I packed up when my mom sold our house last summer. So why do I keep buying them?
I realized something: I don’t even like to wear jeans. I do, but it’s for Ed. I like to make sure they fit. If a pair feels a little tight, I’ll wear them day after day. It’s as though I think I’ll let myself go the moment I get into a pair of leggings or one of the numerous cute dresses I have. I feel GOOD when I dress in skirts and dresses, but Ed hates it. How will he know if I’m ballooning? Well, the truth is, I’m NOT. And I won’t. But the more effort I put in worrying about whether or not last year’s shorts (which are cheap, BTW) will zip up, the less I’m focusing on wearing things that make me look and feel good because they FIT. I deserve to wear the things I want to, NOT what Ed thinks I should be. In all honesty, wearing my tights or my yoga pants will probably help me feel more comfortable, have less Ed thoughts, walk more/move more, and just all around be happier. Seems silly, doesn’t it? But I’m giving myself permission to wear an elastic waistband…
Look out world, I’m breaking out the tights!
Do you like jeans?
How many pairs do you have?