Jeans

I used to own a pair of jeans that told me more about my weight than a scale.  I can even somewhat recall when I purchased them.  At this time, I was a steady size through my restriction and heavy exercise schedule.  The pair of jeans were purchased with another pair which were darker and didn’t fit “as well”.  Therefore, I didn’t like them as much as this other pair, which soon became my favorite.

This pair was just perfect.  The wash on the jeans were just light enough to be worn looking, but dark enough to be dressed up with heals and a nice top.  They cut was “barely boot”, so slightly flared on the bottom so they did look cute with heels, but could also be tucked into boots.  Most of all, the fit was impeccable for the size.  They were a size larger than my other pants but the justification was from this particular brand, I always ran a size up in jeans.  So it was OK for me to be this size in denim pants.  (Other types of pants had to be the smaller size or I would not buy them).  

Somehow, because this pair of jeans became my favorite, they also were my way of measuring myself.  When I bought the jeans, they were snug but soon, when I lost more weight, I realized that they could run big on me.  It was great when I put them on and it didn’t dig into my stomach skin when I sat down.  The butt would sag on them and they would hang from my hips.  Bonus points to me during my last bad relapse when I didn’t even have to unbutton them to take them off.  After binge weekends, or holidays or whatever caused me to gain imaginary weight, the jeans would be tight and I would loathe about how much weight I gained.  Obviously, that had to be rectified right away - these jeans were telling me I was fat again.  

Recently, I saw an older friend on Facebook lament about how sick she had been recently.  For unknown reasons, she has lost her appetite and become really sick.  She has not eaten much and has lost weight, leaving her feeling weak, disoriented and upset with no answers as to why.  Her post, while distressing, was enlightening.  She wrote about how she hated how her clothes didn’t fit her anymore and couldn’t understand why someone would want to be skinny.  To her, being thinner than her normal weight was awful – she felt quite sick and unhealthy, and unhappy.

Her plight made me realize how that’s what my loose jeans should have been signaling to me when I was sick with my eating disorder.  These jeans at parts in my life practically falling off me – my favorite jeans – so why did I want to become so thin I couldn't wear them anymore?  Why was I still trying to become smaller when I never needed to?

Now that I’ve restored eating patterns to a healthy level and put on weight, much of my wardrobe does not fit.  It’s hard to part with the clothes – some of them I really like.  Many of them hold a significance that is directly tied to my ED.  For example, the denim shorts that were the smallest size I’ve ever worn are now gone after struggling to part with them.  And the lovely green seersucker dress that even became big on me during my last relapse – I loved that dress because of the size, and the fact it became big on me – back then.  Now, I still love the dress but because it’s really a pretty dress.  And fortunately, I have a friend who naturally is thin who can take this dress and look lovely, and healthy in it. 

As for "the" jeans, getting rid of them was a battle.  I had to make it a process.  They sat in the bottom of my drawer for a while.  Finally I took them out, moved them to a pile of “around the house” clothes that I never really wear around the house.  Then, after really cleaning my closet out from other sizes that don’t and won’t fit anymore, I tossed the jeans in the bag and threw it in the donation bin.  They are gone.  

In the meantime, I have found a newer favorite pair of jeans.  And someday down the road, I will get another pair that fit my body then and I will love them as well.  They will be in the latest style and compliment my personality and time of life then. At the end of the day, jeans are just jeans and they have nothing to say about the measure of my self-worth.