Cleaning out my closet (it’s a metaphor, people)

Cleaning out my closet. Metaphorically and literally.

But first the literal: As previously mentioned here, my bedroom was a freakin’ disaster. We don’t have enough closet or dresser space to hold all my clothes so, before the bedroom re-do, they would be folded (usually) and piled. In places. Like on any level surface.

I didn’t accumulate all this on purpose. I didn’t go out of my way to have all these clothes with no home.

It’s my weight, you see. I have gained and lost the same 30-40(ish) lbs twice in the last 5 years. That’s a deviation of about 3 clothing sizes.

Also, I shop when I’m depressed. When I’m at the higher end of my weight circuit (like right now, dammit) then shopping is depressing too, but at least I think new clothes will look better/camouflage me better than my old clothes. It’s a vicious cycle.

So when we decided to do this bedroom makeover I knew I would have to do something with all my clothes. They needed to be seriously evaluated and a good chunk discarded. I’m mostly done with that. I have a huge black heavy-duty contractor bag full of clothes I’m going to donate. Some of them are very nice clothes and I was loathe to part with them but I need to be realistic, you know?

I also have a storage box for stuff I absolutely want to keep. For when I’m thinner. (Because, YES, that will totally happen. Someday.) But I just kept the stuff I liked the most and couldn’t part with.

The only thing still pending is a pile of dress pants & jeans. Pants really are the absolute worst for me. I can fit my mammoth boobages into most tops because, contrary to my weight, my frame is small. (Judging by my frame, I should be really cute, petite and tiny. The last time I was cute, petite and tiny was in 1997 when I was stupid, making bad decisions and incredibly unhealthy. But, hey, I looked FABULOUS!)

Back to pants. I hate them. I have short, fat legs. Always have had. Even when I was cute, petite and tiny. And I have a booty. Like for reals. I’m not talking about the “Baby Got Back” kind of booty (by the way, I have to tell all the big girls out there, like me, that Sir Mix-A-Lot is not talking about us. He’s talking about J-Lo. He’s talking about that Kardashian chick. Not the big mamas. Got it? I mean, I like the song too but it’s not OUR theme song. Anyway I would prefer a theme song not relevant to my weight and personal appearance – like “I Will Survive” or “R.E.S.P.E.C.T.” Just my opinion. Moving on.) Back to my booty. I’ve got one, it’s not small and I hate pants.

So how many sizes of pants do you keep? I mean, when you really find a pair that fits and then grow out of them with the full intention of getting back in them then you should keep them right? But for how long??

Well, I’ve kept a ton. I told the hubby last night if I could just lose 30 lbs again I would have so many more clothing options. I just need to have the will to lose that weight. I keep waiting for divine intervention on this one but I think I’m going to have to find the motivation on my own. I’m working on it.

The thing is – I need to lose weight for my health, but I don’t want to be depressed about it. That’s not healthy either, you know? And having all those clothes in smaller sizes is just taunting me. It’s not really motivating me – just making me sad.

So I am metaphorically cleaning out my closet as well. I’m pushing those memories of the slimmer me out of my mind in order to accept who I am today. I’m not going to lie and say that I love the way I look. I don’t. I hate it. But I need to accept that this is who I am right now. I will work on losing weight in my way and in my time and I can’t be pushed on it.

I can’t have my weight struggle holding my happiness hostage. I do not want my weight consuming every minute of my life.

So, certain pants are being kept and tucked away for later days. I’ll get back into them in the fullness of time. The other stuff I’m donating. Let someone else who is either on a weight upswing or downswing get the benefit of them.

Attitude adjustment complete. This is who I am. Love me or don’t.

Note: I have some pics to add but they aren’t with me. I’ll try to add them to this blog later. No guarantees though because I’m picking up my momma in 4 hours and I have a little boy turning 9 tomorrow.