Something else to get used to

I ordered a pair of pants from Land’s End. They came today. After a long hard day at work, with a little frustration at the end, I arrived home exhausted, and didn’t want to face the judgement of pants. Trying on clothes used to be painful, and I would yell at myself so much just for being fat that I couldn’t stand to shop at all.

Pants never fit me. Being a pear, no make that a disproportionate pear, my hips are 3 sizes larger than my bust. And given that I was already on the edge of the available clothing sizes, large hips meant few pants were available to buy. No pencil skirts for me.

But I bought a pair last week, size 3X. After holding them and contemplating the situation, I asked DH to tell me something about how if the pants don’t fit, they go right back. He willingly complied, giving me a teensy whack on the head to help memory retention, and I tried them on. They fit. I am beside myself with flabbergastry. It’s another one of those things to get used to: wearing clothes that I never thought would ever fit. And it’s a reinforcement of the idea that I need to get used to the idea that many many clothes fit, and something that encircles my hips is no longer more important than actually liking my clothes.