I was trying on jeans the other day. I found a box with a bunch from years past and I tried them all on. Every brand was in there. And every size. All the styles…skinny, flared, boot cut, boyfriend, ripped, cropped, light, dark, stretchy, bedazzled.
They represent all the different phases of my life. There is the young stage, the mom stage, all the sizes up and down the pregnancy years, the fancy going out jeans, the run around town jeans, the ones you wear with your boots and the ones that can handle heels. Some have been tailored to fit like a glove, others hang low, hand me downs from my husband, ripped and torn and way too roomy. Some have paint splats from my days of painting furniture. Some are ripped on purpose, others from wear.
There is no other item of clothing that I love more. Jeans are my jam. I feel like myself in jeans. However, I’ve realized that more times than I care to admit, I have worn jeans that make me feel “not myself”. Trying on all of these jeans the other day, I realized I’m ready to move on.
I’m not saying I won’t keep them. I will pack them away in a box to pull out when I feel like reminiscing. I will think of them like a living, fashion photo album. I will love them and appreciate them but I won’t long to be in them.
I have grown up. I am wiser and a little wider. And it’s okay if they no longer fit.
In the new year, I will wear jeans that fit. I will put them on like a comfy blanket and I will be warmed. I will wear them like a boss with my boots and my big blingy Texas belt buckle. I will wear jeans that make me feel like me. The real me. The 46 year old me. The one who is brave and kind and thoughtful. The me that understands where she has been and is joyfully expectant about where she is going. The peaceful yogi me and the silly, loud, singing at the top of her lungs me. The me that likes to eat and hike and dance and laugh and travel. The me that mothers teenagers. The me that humbly understands how small I am. The me that knows what needs to be done and can do it. The obedient me. The rebellious me. Flaws and mistakes and successes and all of it. I like it. I own it. I love me.
I have earned this confidence.
You have too. You’ve earned the right to shine in whatever fits you.
Let’s do this. Let’s strut together out into the world. Confident and courageous. Bold and strong. Let’s show our daughters what aging really looks like. I can see it now and it’s beautiful.
A bing band of women, walking together arm in arm, worthy and beloved, comfortable in their skin…and their jeans.
© 2015 Sue Bidstrup, Great Big Yes™