Closet Cleaning

It’s the new year!  2011!  Lots of things to do and resolutions to keep! (or something)

For the past, oh, six months to a year, I’ve spent an increasing amount of time in self-reflection regarding how I view myself as an individual and a body in space, as well as how I want other people to view me.  Thanks to Fatshionista and other FA/HAES places on the interwebs, I’ve been detangling myself from confidence-sucking inferiority notions based on my physical appearance — ones that have followed me, as with most young women,  on one level or another since self-awareness kicked in.

In another few months, I’ll have graduated from college, and hopefully, y’know, employed.  This past September, I started renting a house with several friends.  These are the things I’ve been thinking about in the past two weeks at my parents’ house, during which I’ve realized that, really, my collection of clothes living in my parents house hasn’t changed since I was in high school, and I don’t need them anymore.

Yes, it might seem like a minor thing, but I have some sort of unholy sentimental attachment to my clothes.

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