The Sisterhood of the Sliding Pants
I look like a commercial! You know the ones where the person holds out their too-baggy clothes to show the "gap" between waistband and belly? That's me!
My formerly-favorite jeans slid off my hips and hit the floor in a puddle recently. My daughter laughed and said, "Guess we're breaking out the sewing machine, huh Mom?"
My wedding ring now resides around my neck on a silver chain after I almost lost it down the kitchen sink while doing dishes. I feel so naked!
But the biggest triumph happened this morning. I have a pair of leather jeans that were my "goal" jeans for the past ten years. Ten years! The friggin' things cost $200 in 1997, and I was going to wear them "someday."
Today was that day. After rummaging through my closet to find jeans that fit, my eyes fell on the leather jeans. The demon of low self-esteem sat on one shoulder, telling me I was nowhere near thin enough, but he'd been weakened lately by my stepping on the scale to discover I'd lost over fifty pounds and other NSV's. The new, brightly colored angel sat on my other shoulder. I named her Hope, and asked her opinion. She grinned and reminded me that, a few months ago, those jeans had slid up to my thighs and almost over my hips. "What could it hurt to check progress? Even if we can't button them yet, we've done a little more than before! Slow and steady, that's the way!"
I took the dusty black leather jeans off the special hanger and shook them out to the floor. First, I put in one leg, then the other. So far, so good. I'd reached this point many a time. Swallowing hard, I grasped the waistband in both hands and pulled, half-expecting them to not even make it past my knees. They slid on, past my thighs. I gasped and pulled a little more. They came over my butt, as if they were greased. My face broke out in a sweat. I tugged the two front halves together, wondering if I could get it buttoned. YES! Then, the final test --the zipper. I grasped the zipper pull with shaking fingers and lifted. ZIP! All the way up! I stood looking in the mirror with my mouth agape. The leather jeans not only fit, they were comfortably loose! I didn't have to lay on the bed to zip them or breathe in shallow pants to avoid breaking the zipper. They fit. Really, really fit. My husband, watching from the chair, applauded.
I'm still stunned. I don't have anymore "goal" clothes left. I'm done. I may still be overweight and no where near a correct BMI, but I've surpassed every goal I set. I guess this means I need new goals. Or a new set of pants. Okay, a new set of pants. LOL!