I don’t really think my closet is too small.

I rather believe that I have too many clothes.

It would seem a simple concept to then give some of the clothes away. But, the good intentions of sorting becomes a futile exercise of taking the clothes off the hanger and then putting them back because there is a compelling reason to keep them.

Sometimes the piece of clothing has a story. “This is what I wore when…”.

Sometimes it is because the outfit in question is a gift. “Oh, I remember when she bought me this. She was so excited. I didn’t think I would ever wear it but when I did, people said I looked great.”

Then, there is the issue of having clothes of differing sizes. This is important because I don’t stay the same size.

I am especially mad at my closet today because it is denying me the dignity of validating that I have not gained weight.

As I tried on blue jeans today with a sincere effort to decide how many I needed, I found that most of them barely met at the waste line.

That could be a rational reason to have a salad for lunch but instead I had apple pie and ice cream.

As I mentioned, I hate my closet.

Sometimes, I have good control of my weight. I remember last year almost giving away an elegant black pant and top that was too big. But, last night I was glad that I had kept it and sad that it fit.

It’s funny the kinds of things you think about as you go through your clothes. There are the memories that are precious, but this process also pushes you to think about future.

How many years will I need clothes? If I live a long time maybe I should keep all of them because some will wear out and I might not have money for more.

But this reasoning isn’t helpful because I think I could be dressed on this earth for two hundred more years with the clothes I have now.

As I bring this blog to a close, I wonder what would have to happen for me to be grateful for my closet. It tells me the truth about my memories,

It tells me the truth about my size. It tells me the truth about life in this body as temporary, therefore, there will come a time when my life will go on but I will not be living in this tent that needs manufactured clothes.

I’m not ready to change the title to this blog yet, but I do have a pile of clothes ready for a charity.

And tomorrow I am going to start eating in a way that will make my blue jeans fit.