As a woman, your body shape and weight fluctuate all the time. It sucks, and all you really get is a “welcome to womanhood.” I have accepted the fact that I will probably never be the same size or shape I was in high school. What I cannot accept, however, is the death of my favorite clothes.
My favorite jeans no longer fit in any way. Granted, they never really fit right in the first place, but still, I loved them. I wore those jeans for three years, and every year I had to suck in a little more to get them buttoned. Eventually, I reached the point where I had to lie flat on the floor just to squeeze myself into them. Was that probably a sign that I needed a new pair? Yes. Did I care? Absolutely not.
I loved those jeans. They went with everything, I knew exactly how I liked to style them, and most importantly, I felt good in them. I still haven’t found another pair that I love quite as much.
Then there was my favorite going-out top. I felt so confident in that top. It hugged and sculpted me in all the right places, and whenever I didn’t know what to wear, I knew I could put it on and feel good. But, once again, my body changed, and now it’s too small.
There’s something strangely sad about growing out of your favorite clothes. Obviously, they’re just clothes. But sometimes they don’t feel like just clothes. They hold memories. You remember where you wore them, who you were with, what pictures you took in them, and most of all, how you felt when you wore them.
I think that’s why I’ve started buying and wearing clothes that are always a little too big. Part of me is afraid of finding something I love again just to eventually grow out of it. If it’s oversized, there’s room for change. I don’t have to worry about waking up one day and realizing another favorite piece no longer fits.
But I’m starting to realize that maybe the problem isn’t my body changing. Maybe it’s expecting my body not to.
I’m not 17 anymore, so why am I still expecting myself to fit into the jeans I wore when I was 17? My body has changed because I’ve changed. I’ve gotten older. I’m at a completely different point in my life. Yet somehow, a number on the tag or a pair of jeans that won’t button can make it feel like I’m the problem.
Maybe growing out of clothes doesn’t have to mean losing them. I can miss my favorite jeans and still find a new pair that makes me feel just as good. I can be sad that my favorite going-out top doesn’t fit anymore without wishing my body looked the way it did when I first bought it.
And yes, this is about my clothes and my body, but it also isn’t.
I think I’ve always had a hard time letting go of things I love, even when I know they don’t fit into my life anymore. There’s comfort in what you already know. My jeans are just an easy example of that. I knew how they fit, how to style them, and how I felt in them. Finding something new means accepting that the old thing doesn’t work anymore, and I think that can be true for a lot more than a pair of jeans.
Growing up means growing out of things. Clothes, routines, friendships, versions of yourself, and things you once thought you’d never want to change. That doesn’t mean there was anything wrong with them, or with you for loving them. Sometimes they just don’t fit anymore.
So, RIP to my favorite jeans, my favorite going-out top, and everything in between. You had a good run.
Maybe it’s finally time I stopped trying so hard to leave room for the person I used to be—or the person I might become and started finding things that fit who I am right now.
And yes, I mean clothes. But also, I don’t.