It’s taken me some time to write about this. To catch you up if you haven’t been following my blogs, back in February of this year, I moved the balance of my belongings out of our ranch, into the first home that I would live in without Todd. I was feeling all the weight and pain from leaving my 25 year marriage. Just when I thought all my stuff was here in my garage, another truck load of my belongings would show up. How in the world did I end up with this much stuff?
I began hauling black trash bags full of my clothes up the master bedroom. I had plenty of space since I had a full walk-in closet to myself, so I figured this would be easy. What I didn’t anticipate, however, is what happened next. I wish I would have taken a picture of it but I found myself sitting on the floor of my bedroom next to this huge heap of clothes in tears.
I do love a good spring cleaning and closet organization so I thought this would be fun. So, I set out to put only the things in my closet that I knew I wanted to keep. I thought this was a perfect opportunity to donate items I didn’t need or want anymore. Easy peasy. I’ve done this a million times before.
But nope, as I started to do my usual task of deciding whether to keep something or not, I found myself paralyzed. I couldn’t decide what to keep or donate. I had thought I was doing pretty well with all of these life transitions but as I sat on my floor paralyzed, I realized how wrong I was. As I sorted through the clothes, I felt so much. I couldn't remember the last time I had truly felt.
First, there was shame. So many of these clothes still had tags on them and had never been worn. Now, I’m not talking about a few items with tags - there were MANY. How could I get rid of items that were new?
Second, there were clothes that reminded me of my failed marriage. Clothes that reminded me of the trips or dinners Todd and I had done together.
Lastly, there were identity issues. As I did my normal sort of things, I began asking hard questions of myself. Where would I wear that piece of clothing? What did I even like? I had clothes for “ranch living”, horseback riding, beach vacations, workouts, cocktail parties, Nashville trips, trying to feel sexy, “going out for wine at a bar”, lounging, suits for work, dresses upon dresses for all occasions, and so much more. But none of these clothes felt like me AT ALL! None of them, except maybe some of my favorite activewear, jeans, and tee shirts. Oh my gosh, what was WRONG with me? Why did I not want any of these things? Why did it all feel wrong? I realized, then, that I had been living for everyone else, but not me.
So, I took a break from the closet organization, came back later and did the best I could. I got rid of bags and bags of clothes, trying to get past the shame of donating so much.
Over the course of the last six months, I’ve cleaned out my closet several times. I guess it’s part of my healing process.
As I packed for a cruise in April, I realized that no, I could no longer wear any of my “go-to” vacation sundresses. They were filled with too many memories and wearing them felt just wrong. So, off to the store I went to find a few new dresses to wear (more on that in a minute).
As I got more comfortable with my new life, I realized that I didn’t really love going out to dinner or going out for cocktails. And so, those clothes went away. So did the “sexy” clothes because I realized that I could feel sexy in anything I felt good in, even if it was a pair of yoga pants and tee shirt.
Boxes of shoes went. I paired down the riding clothes to just keep my favorites. The ranch clothes were too painful and had to go. I’d buy new ones later if I wanted. I prefer working out on my Peloton over the gym so most of the workout clothes could go.
At one point, early on in this process, I had had a bad day. I had wanted to go to my favorite clothing store to buy something new for myself as a “pick me up”. I walked in and the sales associates recognized me instantly (hello shame! - I have a shopping problem). She asks me what I’m looking for and again, I’m paralyzed in the middle of the store. I had no idea what felt like me. Everything in the store felt wrong. Who was I? What did I really want? What brings me joy?
This entire experience of cleaning out my closet has been grueling yet freeing. So fricken freeing! It’s like a lifetime of therapy in a spring cleaning session. I could have never imagined. I’ve learned so much about myself through this process:
Shopping, as I was growing up, was a means of “shopping therapy” for when I had a hard day. As a special needs mom, I had plenty of tough days and I guess I was trying to “feel” something by buying something pretty and new. That felt good for a while but it was just masking the insecurities and feelings of not belonging.
As my pain increased, I could no longer feel it by a simple shopping experience so I kept buying more and more, in hopes I could feel something - anything. This extended past clothes into other material items in my life. Nothing worked. There is no substitute for dealing with the pain head on through therapy, etc. At points in time, it felt like an addiction of sorts.
When I was in high school, and still today, I just wanted to “belong”. Clothes were one way I did this. If I dressed in the perfect outfit, would it mask my insecurities and pain? Would people like me then? Still in my 50's, it was a way for me to keep up the facade that my life was "perfect" and that I had it all together.
Life can get so complicated when you have more “stuff”. There is peace in a simpler life like I have now. There is less to wash and it is easier to pick out outfits in the morning.
It’s ok to own your personal style. Who cares if it is too feminine, too masculine, not sexy enough, old, not dressy enough, as long as it makes you feel good. That’s all that is important!
It’s funny where trauma can reside. For me, one of those places was in my closet. Looking back, I can now smile at how far I’ve come and I am so proud that I now have fewer things in my life. I no longer shop just to shop (well most of the time - I’m not perfect). My life is just “simpler” and it is so freeing. Living in this simpler way has brought me so much peace and joy and I’m living a more authentic life. I still have a lot to learn about myself and I’m still discovering who I am but I’ve come a long way.
As parents of kids with special needs, our lives are not simple. They will always be hard, messy, and complex. But, taking small steps to honor who I really am by simplifying my life has been freeing.
Have you ever simplified your life in some way and found it led to more peace? It’s hard to do but you are worth it. Live authentically, whatever that means to you. Wear those yoga pants if it makes you feel good, or stay in your pajamas all day. What matters is you!
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