Mustering up every ounce of courage I could, I tried on a pair of shorts. They don’t fit. Not even close. Looking at the size, I was hit with the cold realization that although I have lost most of the weight I gained during pregnancies (yes, that’s plural), I have not lost all of it and it means that pesky 15 pounds will prevent me from fitting into a single article of clothing from that box.
This leaves me with the daunting task of having to buy myself an entire summer wardrobe. On the surface, I’m kind of excited about it. Being a little bit of a shopoholic, this is a great opportunity. I have to wear clothes, you know, which means I have to buy some that fit. But what do I get? Am I the same person I was two years ago? Has my style changed? Am I ready to adopt a more mature wardrobe? I think I know the answers to those questions, but I sometimes miss the old me. Plus, I really love this shirt and I’m dying to fit into it again, even to just wear it on weekends.
Don't laugh. Lucky 13, I love this shirt!
Since having my kids, clothes have become very important to me. My body has changed dramatically and it needs to be dressed properly. This may sound superficial and selfish, but it’s important to me. If I look good, or at least I think I look good, I feel good. When I’m feeling fat or depressed about how much I’ve changed physically and mentally, if I can look in the mirror and be reassured that I don’t look as bad as I my mind says I do, then I can get through the day with a general state of contentment. Properly fitted clothes do that for me.
I’m a little scared of the dressing room, so send good thoughts my way, I need them.