5 Bags, 3 Boxes

When we moved just over a year ago I promised myself if I didn't use certain things within a year I was going to get rid of them. Not that I'm much of a hoarder at all; I wouldn't even be able to scrape enough stuff together for a garage sale and I think clothing at a garage sale just looks trashy.

This stuff was all clothing from my past life . The no-kids and hittin-the-club-twice-a-week past life. Clothing that belonged to the skinnier version of myself who I've accepted will never return. It was such a flood of memories going through that stuff. The shirt I was wearing the night I met Craig 8 years ago. The pants that were handed down to me from a skinnier friend while I was losing weight and was between sizes. In fact, there was lots of stuff that was discarded by friends who were getting rid of their fat clothes. There was also a ton of more dressy clothing that I've been hanging onto because I can't give it to a thrift store knowing there's women out there who need more business-like clothing for job interviews and the like. I'm on the hunt for a charity specifically for clothing like suits, blouses, and blazers. Seriously, I can't believe I wore some of that stuff. Craig and Shaun were on the bed while I modeled everything one last time: a double-breasted blazer with shoulder pads that rival Michael Jackson's on his red "Thriller" coat, my prom dress from 2000, a red leather skirt that was my go-to for the nights I'd hit the bar, and knee high boots with fat, chunky heels that I saved 2 paycheques to buy. Ahh, it's all gone. I feel so much lighter.

Now I need to get my act together and lose these last 20 pounds so I can focus on rebuilding my pitiful wardrobe.