I did learn one lesson…
I am very into dressing my changed and changing body lately. Really exploring my personal style. Cuts and fabrics. The way things drape. Colors I want to wear. Fewer neutrals. More statement pieces.
My best friend started me thinking about it a few years ago. Dressing “her.” The woman I am stepping into. The woman I want to be.
The last time I felt like this, like dressing for the life I want, was when I bought all the clothes for my March 2020 Floriada Keys trip. The trip where Covid broke out. And I ended up not really becoming that woman. The world for that woman didn’t exist anymore. Like buying clothes for a gala, and getting a 3 year long, relatively depressing, pajama party. (I use the term party loosely.)
I have mentioned before that there are a lot of women who do what I do with food, who get their eating and sugar addiction under control, loose a bunch of weight, and basically never change bodies again. They don’t *have to* buy new clothes. Their old clothes just continue to fit. And this is not my story. My body has changed myriad ways and times since I got my eating under control 19 1/2 years ago.
I used to think that was a curse. Or at least a burden. But as I get older, and look at all of the amazing different lives I have lived in my 48 years on the planet, and I can see that getting to live like this, in my body, in my work, in my creativity, in my beliefs and experiences, is a gift.
I can sincerely say that since I have been in food recovery, I feel blessed to have lived so much and so many lives.
But also, I did learn one lesson. Even my fancy clothes must be comfortable. In case of another 3 years of being home bound. So at least I can feel beautiful while I snuggle up with some crochet and an audiobook series.
onceafatgirl 