I have this image in my head…of me on an airplane…and the plane’s going down…and this booming voice is telling me to lighten the load or we are going to crash…and I see myself pushing all my baggage out the exit door…it falls to the ground, the lids flying open and out comes…clothes. Lots and lots of clothes.
I’m not only going through an emotional transition, I’m going through a physical one too. I made a decision back in August to take control of my health and my weight and since then I’ve lost about 65 lbs…give or take a pound here and there. You know what has been so hard for me? Letting go of my old clothes. (Sounds crazy, right?) I had a huge walk in closet and another bedroom closet filled with clothes, all sorted by season and color. I had been the size I was for a long time and while I did occasionally purge my closet of things I no longer wanted, I still had enough clothes to open a small store. So as I started to shrink, I started to move the clothes I could no longer wear to a garment rack in the garage. I gave away some of my things to friends and family and I took my really nice work clothing to consignment stores, but I still had so much “stuff” that it looked like there was a rummage sale going on in my kid’s bedrooms. Clothes that no longer fit over ran the place and I knew I had to get rid of this stuff because it was not only cluttering my house…it was cluttering my mind…but (and it’s a BIG but too) I was emotionally attached to these clothes. (I realize I’m sounding like those people on HOARDERS).
I can’t explain exactly how I felt about it but I’m going to try to put some words to it. I really did not realize just how many clothes I did have. No one needed that many clothes and I felt guilty that I had so much (and now could wear none of it). And I felt sad, because I really loved those clothes. They are a reflection of me. It seemed like each piece of clothing meant something more to me…it was attached to a feeling or a memory. Like the black dress I wore out with my husband on our anniversary, the red sweater that I wore to the Big Apple when I went on my first girlfriend’s trip, the mustard yellow zip hoodie that reminds me of my trip to Arkansas with my girlfriend, Lora…our first road trip together in my convertible in the fall. And mostly there was the feeling of being secure in who I was and what I was all about (I’vekind of lost that confidence…more on that later). And as stupid as it sounds, they were my crutch, giving me confidence to face the world fearlessly as a plus size woman. (Did I mention I work with the affluent market?) What I DID realize was having these clothes that didn’t fit me all over the place was stressing me out…I didn’t know what to do with all of them…give them away…sell them…donate them…ugh.
And then last week the light bulb went off. (I know, I know…thank goodness, right?)These clothes had to be gone…like NOW! They were weighing me down…more than the pounds that I had lost. They were just more emotional baggage and I was already carrying enough of that. If you’re asking yourself what made me snap out of it…I’ll tell you it was a heart to heart with one of my best friends. Best friends have a way of helping you put things in their proper place.
And just like that ( with a snap of my fingers), my mind was made up. And within less than a week…I am rid of ALL of those clothes. And my spirit is much lighter for it. Letting go of this means I can work on de-cluttering something else. My mind, my thoughts, my heart can focus on things that can make a positive difference in my life. I’m thinking I can fly (and I’m not talking about in an airplane, people)…and I can tell you… I won’t be filing a claim for any of this lost baggage.