success measured by trousers
Today, I realised I could finally take my wedding ring off, without the aid of soap, oil, or an angle grinder.
I've been able to slide it up and down to the knuckle for a while recently, which itself was progress over it previously being an immovable object apparently bent on finger garrotting, but now I can finally slide it on and off at will.
This is not a revelation of the ending of my marriage, or indeed the admittance that I'm trying to deny that I'm married in some misguided mid-life (pah!) crisis event. It's just a marker of how much weight I've managed to get rid of in the last few months.
For a long while J has been nagging me to sort out the contents of my wardrobes. I'd been keeping clothes that I no longer fitted into, based on the optimism of being able to fit into them again at some undefined point in the future.
Don't worry, J said, it's age, you inevitably get a bit bigger and, you know... saggier. (Was there any need for that? Cruel.)
I didn't believe that and determined to Do Something About It.
Some trousers had been hanging in there unworn for years. One or two pairs had missing waistband buttons, as witness to the day that admitting to myself they were too small for me was finally here (probably nearly taking someone across the restaurant's eye out in the process).
Happily, I now fit into a lot of those too small clothes, and have sewn new buttons back on some trousers. My choice of shirts, T-shirts and jackets has become wider as I have become less so. (Don't worry, there will not be any photographs as proof.)
I do have some clothes left that are still too small for me. I can still aim to be able to get into a few of the cycling jerseys I used to wear and have kept, misty-eyed at remembering where and when I finally realised that 'overstuffed sausage' was not a good look and I should buy bigger ones now.
Occasionally I try one on. I am normally staggered that I obviously was this size once, as I stand there in front of the mirror wearing a cycling jersey for a hat.
There's a long way to go before the smallest end of me-size clothes ceases to be under threat from J wielding the charity shop bag. Or the largest end now as well.
I am currently at the lower end of the middle of my size range. I have no idea why she should expect the size I am now to be my final form. But perhaps I should let the bigger end go, if only to inspire me not to get up to that and start popping trouser buttons again.
Written by a real person, em dashes and all.
Post Link: https://skryblans.com/success-measured-by-trousers
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