Damn Pants!

 

 

Pardon my french, but sometimes you just have to say a swear word or two for the sake of feeling better. I hate to admit it but sometimes a swear word or two just makes you feel so good. And so comes the title of this post… DAMN pants!

 

I have had a lovely pair of pants. They now have a new home and I hope they make their new owner a happy camper, because they did me for a time.

 

I remember the day I saw them in the store, hanging there, luring me in. I was swooning, and I knew that they just had to be mine. So, I lovingly took them to the dressing room to try them on. What happened next is nothing short of a tragedy … the damn pants were too small! Why? I asked as I looked in the mirror, as they were the only ones they had in that style. Why? Why? Why? As I sat there I came up with a glorious plan…I just needed to restrict my eating for a time and those damn pants would fit perfect! So, I took those pants up to the checkout and walked out of the store as a girl on a mission. I was worthy of those pants and I would show them just how worthy I was. Mission wear the “damn pants” was on!!!

 

And, wear those pants I did. I got every penny I could out of those pants and a few more for good measure. Those pants were my go to. If I was sad. If I felt fat. If I felt lonely. If I felt ugly… those pants let me know that all of those feelings and thoughts were lies. If I could fit into those pants I had it all. When I would hear people ask my husband and I “who wears the pants in your relationship” I would smile…my pants wore the pants in my relationship and the damn pants liked it that way. The pants and I were a happy little team and lived happily ever after.

 

The END…..

 

Okay, not really, but it is the end of the happy ending for the pants and I. You see I started treatment for my eating disorder and I quickly realized that those pants were just not the right fit anymore. Instead of flattering me, those damn pants were controlling me. They decided if I ate that day. They decided if I felt pretty. Those stupid pants decided my value.  I began to hate those pants and love them all at the same time. I despised what they represented and how they made me feel. BUT, they still remained folded with care in my closet. Taunting me. Haunting me. Letting me know they were still there if I wanted to be friends again. Some days I would lovingly pick them up and just hold them because I missed them and how they could make me feel better instantly. Damn pants I tell you…they were going to be the death of me!

 

Then a miracle happened and I found out I was pregnant.  I was happy and sad all at the same time. Unbelievably happy to bring a new little bundle into the world and devastatingly sad because I had failed to finish my recovery before I got pregnant, which was one of my goals. I did not want to bring another baby into this world with a mom who was a hot mess. It was a bitter sweet moment at the time and now looking back I can see that God had a plan for me…and the pants!

 

When I first started showing and gaining weight I had this brilliant idea to sell all my pre-pregnancy clothes, so after I had the baby, I wouldn’t have anything to compare my new body to. I set out everything in my garage and put it in the local paper that I was having a huge clothes sale., but those blessed pants were tucked lovingly away in my closet. I just couldn’t part. The girls came and cleaned me out and there was one girl in particular who came. She bought almost every. single. pair. of my pants. She went in the house and tried them on and would come out and show me. I smiled at her but inside I was so sad for the life I was leaving behind me. A life I had know for quite sometime. She actually came back the next day  to see what  I had left and for whatever reason, like a zombie, I went into my closet and lovingly pulled those pants out of my closet and handed them to the girl. She LOVED them as much as I did, so I hesitantly gave them to her. I felt like I gave a piece of me to her as she drove away. I was happy that she didn’t have any clue what those pants and I had been through together but I was so sad that no one was there to celebrate how symbolic handing those pants over to her was or the proof of just how far I had come as I watched her drive down the road with my pants on her seat. I cried the ugly cry…I cried over those damn pants for the very last time. I cried big crocodile tears but not because I was sad but because I was finally letting go.

 

It was finally okay to let go.

 

Although you might not have physical “pants” that torment you, somewhere in your life there are some pants that haunt you. Pants that hold you back. Pants that keep you from letting go and embracing who you are. Pants that you just wish you could get rid of. Just like I learned, there comes a time when you know, and you can just walk away and let it all go. Clean out your closet and let those damn pants go once and for all.

 

Those damn pants have no place in our lives or closets.  My sincerest hope is you will take my advice and save yourself the heartache, the stress of carrying it all around and LET IT GO!

 

That is all. Let go.

 

xoxo

Kallie

 

 

Kallie is the Creator and Editor of Smitten By.

You can visit her Etsy shop 

or read more about her HERE

 

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