I said goodbye to some old friends yesterday. It was long overdue and poignant. It was time to say farewell to the dreams and promises entwined with the fibres of my old clothes.
The dark Banana Republic suit I bought for a job interview in the US. The job I didn’t get. Another suit, a light one, I bought to return to work more than a year after my cancer diagnosis, surgery, chemo and recovery. It didn’t get much wear as the cancer returned 4 months later. And I never returned to work again. There were beautiful shirts I ironed before heading to the corporate job. And there were weekend jeans in a variety of sizes that started at 6.
That was my wardrobe 35 pounds ago. I donated my clothes to a charity that supports women who are returning to the workforce. Maybe someone (a much thinner someone) will get a new job wearing my suit.
Giving up the clothes means I relinquish my dream of shrinking to my pre-cancer weight. And I know I’m not returning to work. It leaves me with ample space in my closet and lots of extra hangars. Room for new dreams.