By: Clare Pattison

I spent this morning cleaning out my closet and dresser again.  This was prompted by a frustrating experience on Sunday morning when after not having worn most of my clothes for quite a few weeks following hip surgery (sweat pants and a T-shirt were the outfit of choice during recovery) I was trying to get ready for church.  I put on one pair of pants after another only to find that they didn't fit and looked awful. 

Now I usually get excited when my clothes get too big, but it doesn't usually happen all at once while trying to get out the door looking presentable!  So today I opened the closet, took off my sweatpants and T-shirt, and tried on every single thing I own.  If it was too big in the shoulders, out it went.  If it had a baggy bum, or flappy thighs, or was too long in the sleeves or just too long, out it went.  I was ruthless.  It didn't matter if it was my only navy pair of pants or my favourite jacket.  I tossed two blazers, two pairs of jeans, and three pairs of dress pants.  And the pink lacey top I was so proud of at Christmas?  Gone along with a big pile of blouses and tops. 

Then I moved on to the dresser.  I emptied every drawer onto the bed and tried on every shirt and sweater.  I still had some old favourites hiding in there that were size 28!  I'm wearing size 14-16 tops now.  And my only three nighties, all size 5X?  In the bag.  I'll sleep in a T-shirt until I get some new ones. 

Why did I keep them?  How many of us have kept clothes that don't fit us anymore?  Usually we keep clothes that have become too small hoping that someday we'll fit into them again.  Sometimes they hang right there in the closet where we see them every day.  Sometimes we move them into garbage bags and tuck them way up on the top shelf, but we hang on to them.  And then there are the clothes that are too big.  We keep them too, hoping that we'll never wear them again, but not trusting ourselves enough to get rid of them. 

For years I wore clothes from the "whatever fits" department at the large lady stores.  It didn't matter what colour they were or what style or if they suited me.  If I could get them on and especially if they were on sale, I bought them.  I only owned one pair of pants at a time.  They were black with an elastic waist.  I just kept washing them and wore them every day.  It didn't matter if I was going to work, to church, or camping, they were my pants.  And I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't really care if they were dirty or not fresh.  They were black and so who cared?  One summer, I got really lucky and found a pair of black, elastic waist capris which made the hot days a little more bearable.  I wore the same black sweater over everything.  It was warm and it covered up all my rolls and protrusions.  I even wore that sweater in the heat of summer because I felt exposed without it.  So black pants, a black sweater, and whatever shirt fit me was my uniform.  If I found a shirt that I felt looked good, I would buy one of every colour in the store as I could afford them, and I rejoiced if ever they went on sale!  For church on Sunday, I added a brightly coloured necklace to dress up.  I usually had one dress, a black, shapeless one that went to my ankles, that I wore to weddings, graduations, and other occasions that required it.

I dressed as someone who didn't have respect for my body.  It didn't matter what I looked like because I wasn't worth looking at.  It was okay for me to wear lifeless, shapeless clothes because I had a lifeless, shapeless body.  I used to marvel at large women who looked fabulous, who dressed with style.  I could have done that, too, but it never occurred to me that I could dress like them.

Now you may think that I lacked self-esteem and confidence and that was true of my younger self, the one that ate her way to 314 pounds.  But my older self was a confident, self-assured woman.  I was a performer, a public speaker, a lay preacher.  I was a Girl Guide leader, a PTA chairperson, a CPR instructor, and a medical First Responder.  I had decided to live my life to the fullest despite my size.  I wasn't going to let what I looked like dictate what I could do in my life.  There was just such a disconnect between who I was on the inside, and what I looked like on the outside.

So for me to stand in front of my mirror and toss clothes aside because they were slightly long in the sleeves or I just don't care for them is a vast departure from the way I used to be.  What is the difference?  Sure, I'm smaller than I was but it is so much more than that.  The disconnect has slowly been connected.  Now who I am on the inside is reflected by what I look like on the outside.  I have become a complete package. 

I am not a better person since I lost weight.  I'm not better at my job or a better speaker.  It hasn't brought me wealth or prestige.  It hasn't changed who I am on the inside at all.  What it has done is let that inside person be seen as well as heard.

I used to think that when I had a smaller body, I would feel better about how I looked and therefore feel better about myself.  Well, the opposite was true.  You know the saying, "you'll believe it when you see it?" It's actually "you'll see it when you believe it." It was when I started feeling better about myself and decided to live my life to the fullest despite my size that I was able to make the decision to change my size and live in a smaller, healthier body. 

So out with all the clothes that don't fit, don't suit, or I don't like!  And no more keeping them just in case!  I now have a new respect for my body because it shows the world the real me, and the real me is someone I am proud to be.

Clare Pattison

Share this Article

Facebook  Twitter