Other Places

I’m considering changing the name of this blog to “Other Places” because that’s where I do my sharing these days. On a scale of 1-10 – v Instagram is 1 (best) and Facebook is 10 (worst). In between is Twitter, Gab and MeWe. Even though I have a long standing account there, Parler gives me a headache. This is something that I wrote on Instagram this week – as you can see, it’s longer than the usual entry over there.

SAGGY BAGGY AND GONE TO THE THRIFT STORE.

This week marks a 75 pound weight loss for me since July. Weight loss wasn’t my primary objective – I was looking for the cardiac benefit of going vegan but I’ll take it. (Did you know that it’s passé to use the term vegan? Now the thing to say is plant-based. Further, my particular corner of the planet is known as PBWFNF – plant-based whole foods no fat.) Anyway, lots to be happy about now but there’s sadness, too.

I’ve been hanging onto some really good business clothes that I outgrew, waiting for the day that I’d slim down and fit in them again. I know I’m not the only one that does this. I missed the window. I always thought It would be so great if my clothing was loose, or my rings would spin around or if bracelets and watches had to be pushed up on my forearm to keep the faces pointed towards me. But that’s not what happened – it’s annoying and uncomfortable.

I waited too long to try them on and now they look like circus tents hanging on me. And spinning rings and bracelets -which imply that you’re so slim you can’t find items small enough for you – are very annoying. The thing that hurts is how much angst I had separating myself from these things. I guess it’s because they were some of the best quality clothing I ever owned?

In the end, I bagged up 3 kitchen can bags, crammed full of these items, some with the tags still on, that were special to me and took them to a local thrift shop that supports the battered women’s shelter. Forgive me when I tell you that I couldn’t let go of 2 of my best blazers, 3 wrap dresses, or even my 2 fabulous faux fur coats. (I might still need those coats in wintery Florida!)

They told me the shelter women get first crack at incoming clothing and I hope that’s true. It’s a comfort to think that women who are right now without the basic necessities will be wearing that clothing someday, maybe to job interviews or for loan applications.

I don’t know why I am compelled to share this with you. Letting go of these visible symbols of a goal that’s long been surpassed is still bothering me a week later.