Dear clothes that don’t fit me anymore but I’ve kept for years in hopes that one day you will fit me again,
You have sat in my drawer unworn for years taunting me. Forcing me to question everything I put in my mouth. Even though I still ate that cookie, I was immediately filled with regret knowing that cookie pulled me one step further away from those bright pink J Crew pants. You have sat in my drawer mocking me with rampart disregard of the notion that my value as a human being is in the thinness of my thighs. You have been a constant reminder that the only acceptable me is the me that can pull those jorts past my now monstrous ass.
At the beginning of this year I made a promise to you that I would once again take you for a spin. I made it my New Year’s resolution because when you make a goal your New Year’s resolution, you really mean it this time, right? My goal was to shed some of my body mass by ending my cozy relationship with processed sugar and reintroducing my body to exercise. And as I made this goal, I slowly caressed you and whispered, “We will be together once more.” I could see the doubt and judgement in your eyes screaming, “You said this last year.” But I told you, “This time it would be different.”
The first day without sugar was painful; I screamed and yelled at everyone around me. It didn’t help that my body was sore from a barre class, with an instructor who insisted that she was there to make our summer glute dreams a reality. I didn’t have any summer glute dreams! I went through this torture for about five days, at which point I decided to reward myself with a bagel with vegan cream cheese. Once I tasted the bagel, my promise to you faded to the ether. I let processed sugar back in my life and abandoned barre. I felt guilty because I knew I betrayed you. I did my best to avoid your disdainful gaze. Every single time you saw me, you reminded me of my broken promises and how I would never change. And after months of feeling like I was sleeping with the enemy, I concluded that we must part ways.
So today I say to you, this taunting must end. I bid you adieu without tears in my eyes. Unbeknownst to you, I have gathered all of you, placed you on my dining table, taken your photos and posted your image for others on social media to take custody of you. I can no longer harbor monsters that question my desire for self-love and acceptance as I am today. I can no longer let you feed me lies that you have internalized from all the issues of Vogue and Elle. I don’t hate you though, I’m letting you go because I hope you find a lovely home with someone who can make use of you. Someone who will not view you as a hinderance to self-acceptance. Someone who can take you out, so you can feel the sun on your threads once more.
The haunted woman