This morning it struck me that it was time to face the grim truth that I am not going to wear my skinny jeans again...it has been a long time coming, an unwelcome thought that I avoided as best as I could for some years now. The fact is that not only were they skinny jeans for the skinny version of me, but the skinny me was so thin because of extreme stress. As marriage one unravelled, I seemed to get smaller and smaller. It was great being thin, but to be so small again would mean a repeat of the level of anxiety that pared me down and or starvation and both would be unbearable.
I decided the best thing to do was to go and buy myself a pair of decent jeans that fit the me now and say goodbye to the pair that fit the me then. I did it and am not thrilled, but realise that at least they fit, are comfy and that finally I have jeans to hang out in.
I had my hair cut today as well. It is lovely; and Dawn, my hairdresser has done a brilliant job again. While waiting for the colour to absorb I read a magazine that advised exactly what I had done. Accept the new size of me and get rid of the stuff that does not fit and makes me feel large.
I then read about DE-CLUTTERING...this is my dream. To get rid of THINGS. So I got home and emptied the wardrobe, bagged up half the stuff (it went to the charity shop, I did not even hang onto it for a boot sale) and dumped the things that are worn out, or too ugly to wear. It felt good, but the fact that all that labour made such a little dent in the clutter mountain was a blow....am trying to see it as positive. It can all be done.
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