Buy The Bigger Jeans

Everywhere you look, women are talking about our weight. Specifically, weight loss. Or weight found. We’re always talking about it, to be honest. But this time of year, it’s an especially hot topic. Resolutions, right? I’ve never been a fan of new year’s resolutions (see my Chattanooga Moms post from last January). But, this year…friends, this year I went full tilt. I mean, I dove into new year’s resolutions like chips and salsa at a Mexican restaurant. I joined an online weight loss program. I tightened up my personal finance budget. I even bought a journal, for crying out loud! A journal, y’all.

I downright reeked of resolutions the first two weeks of January.

Fast-forward to this week, the third week of January, and let me tell you how it’s going. How it’s really going. Not the Facebook or Instagram version. Not the version that has everyone thinking “Boy, she sure has her act together and it’s just the third week of January!” No. Not that version. But, the panic attack version. The version that has me standing in my bathroom in tears feeling terrified about money, guilty that my journal is barely touched, and beating myself up because my jeans won’t zip. “I’m never going to be able to save for that Disney trip my son wants.” “The only words I have for that journal are dumb and make me sound like a dumb teenager.” “I’m fat.” Suddenly, in the time it took me to get dressed for a nice dinner out, everything around me became a judgment. I don’t have enough money. I don’t have enough time. I don’t have the right words. I don’t have skinny jeans. I don’t…I don’t…I don’t.

So, let’s talk about what I DO have.

I am blessed with things that many people only dream of. I own my own home. A precious little home that my son and I (and our dogs) adore. That precious home is always filled with play and laughter and food and love. I am a single mother and in more ways than one, that is hard. If I can’t take my child to Disney this year like we used to so often when his dad and I were married, guess what? The world won’t end. I’ll save the money and it will still be special and Disney World will still be there. Besides, I have a sneaking suspicion that my son will still love me even if he never stepped foot in Florida again.

And, the journal? Just like Disney, that journal will still be there when I finally get to it. It will still be therapeutic and creative and, above all, true. I would rather go to it when I have words that I want to say instead of forcing daily words that just fill pages. Don’t we do that so often? Force things that we think are expected of us – expected by others and by ourselves. No. I’m not doing that this year. I’ll write when I have things that I want to say and remember. Things that need to leave my head and my heart through my pen and onto the pages. Things that flow. That aren’t forced or fake.

Journals — like life — should never be fake.

Finally, the jeans. Lord, the jeans. Here’s the thing I want to say about last year’s jeans that don’t fit. Buy bigger jeans. Stop making yourself feel bad by trying to squeeze into the old ones. Put them away. Buy new jeans that fit and, more importantly, that you love regardless of the size. And, in a few months, if you manage to lose a few pounds, revisit the old jeans. If they fit, outstanding. If they still make you feel less than the amazing mom/wife/friend/daughter/woman that you are? Well, then those aren’t the jeans for you anymore.

Don’t make last year’s jeans your judge.

I have a budget that I sort of stick to but not really. I have a journal that I sort of write in but not really. I have jeans that sort of fit but…yeah. There’s a lot of “sort of but not really” in my life right now. But, I’m trying. While I realize that’s not really a resolution, it is a start. And, whether it’s January or June or next year…we all have to start somewhere.

Have some grace with yourself. Buy the bigger jeans.