the waiting is over (m)

Cleaned my closet this week.  The goal was to attack the project and get rid of stuff I've been shuffling around for years. 

I come to a section of clothes that I've been holding onto for a while.  Tags still on them.  They didn't fit me when I bought them but I had to have them at the time and hoped it would incent me to lose weight to wear them. 

I am feeling optimistic.  I wasn't far off from fitting into these clothes last summer.  Today should be the day they fit.

I put make-up on and a good set of underwear (Spanx, of course).  Ready.

I try the first outfit.  It fits!  I look in the mirror.  It's horrible.  Wrong color, wrong style.

Second outfit.  Same thing.  I look like I have jaundice.  I take it off before I convince myself I have a disease.

Third outfit.  The color is right but the style looks like something from an Austin Powers movie.  When did I buy this?  Before Sam was born?

Fourth outfit.  A red dress from Marshall's. Norma Komali jersey knit.  Originally priced at $250.  I got it for $49.  Now I know why.  If I extend my arms, I look like a red bat with these dolman sleeves.  How did I not notice this?

By now, I don't even want to try on the fifth outfit, but I do.  Donna Karan pants.  I look like the side of a barn in these.  What possessed me to buy wide-leg pants?  I look like Friar Tuck.

I look at the other clothes.  At least I'm up the learning curve and can detect which ones won't work without trying them on.

I keep one blouse.

If I hadn't lost weight, I would still be holding onto these things, dreaming of the day I would be thin enough to wear them.

I look at my closet.  If it could speak, I imagine it would say: "Took you long enough."

We both are lighter.