Coming Out Of The Closet, Literally
This is the most embarrassing post I hope I ever write. In fact I told my husband the idea hoping that he would tell me it was a terrible idea so that I could just not do it. Well, I am here writing it so you know how that conversation went. There is something about calling myself out publicly that changes me. I don’t know if that is good or bad. But when I can write things down and read them as if I were one of you reading it, my perspective really does change. I am guessing this is why Tripp wanted me to write it… he’s so ready for this part of me to change and I totally get it.
My obsession with buying clothes probably started when most girls start loving clothes. I am an artist and I saw outfits as something I got to create and design everyday. I think that’s why I hated getting rid of something because it felt like throwing away a paint color. And you know the arguments, those are my fat jeans just in case I gain a few pounds, those are my skinny jeans just in case I lose a few pounds, that’s my favorite blue sweatshirt from high school, that’s what I wore on our first date, nevermind that none of these things have been touched in 5 years… in my head everything has some kind of story or purpose. It’s as if I am saying, I need all of this stuff that I just look at every few years and it wouldn’t go to better use somewhere else… like the women who live within miles of me who can’t afford nice clothes for work or school. When I say it out loud, it stings.
In my defense (yeah right) my clothes haven’t all been in one place since I lived with my parents. They have been spread out everywhere from my parents house, my apartments, to my storage units. So I have been able to pretend like this wasn’t a problem. When we moved to Los Angeles a few years ago I had a tiny closet and I only unpacked what would fit. We moved back to Georgia and all of my clothes suddenly ended up in the same place… and it was shocking. I had over 20 giant boxes of clothes that hadn’t been opened in years! Guys, all of those boxes I already got rid of… and this closet is what’s left… which is perhaps the most embarrassing part. Not just because it’s a disaster, but who needs this much crap and why has it been so hard for me to let go of? What is going on in me that I can’t see?
My husband has been learning a lot about minimalism… you can imagine how we don’t see eye to eye in this category. Baby steps, right? Here’s the thing, I look at this picture of my disgusting closet and I really don’t want to be this person. It makes me anxious. It clutters my head. And it’s a terrible example to my children of what actually matters in life. Believing something only counts if I am willing to live that way.
I really do think that over the last few years my obsession with clothes has started to fade. It used to be what I spent my entire paycheck on after bills were paid. Should I just start putting #embarrassing at the end of every sentence? I finally started growing up and learned how to manage money and budget and I actually didn’t want to spend as much on clothes even when I had it to spend. I know, so impressive. It feels like we live in a culture where fashion bloggers are not the minority. I swear 1/10 of my friends are fashion bloggers, and don’t get me wrong, I still love fashion, but without a focused mindset on who I want to be it’s way too easy to click that “liketoknowit” picture and get emailed all the details on the latest outfit favorite. Where we put our money says so much about who we are. You know this. I know this… but in all honesty I am having a harder time than I like to admit focusing on it.
Before we moved into our new house I lived out of a suitcase for six months while we bounced around from place to place. All I had with me were the essentials. It was tough, but I actually learned a few things about myself:
- I mostly just like to wear a few comfortable things anyway.
- The less stuff I have the less messy I am, go figure.
- The less messy I am the less anxious I am.
- The less anxious I am the more room I have to think about other people.
- I want to be the kind of person who thinks a lot about other people.
I have grown to really desire simplicity and obviously I am still so far from it. Organization is a weakness of mine (artist brain) and having too much stuff is feeding my weakness. Also, my husband is about to kill me. Also, also, I want to say, the rest of our house does not look like this because I am pretty sure Tripp would move next door if it did.
So here I am trying to figure out how to become more of who I want to be, and embarrassingly enough, it’s starts here, in my closet. If you have them, give me your tips and tricks on how to decide what to get rid of, what book I should read, where the clothes should be donated, what boot camp I should attend, and how to keep simplicity long term. Or, if you relate to me at all on this, please let me know I am not alone so I’m not so freaking embarrassed. Or maybe just tell me the truth, that this is terrible and I need to get it figured out asap.
Thanks for letting me be real. There will definitely be updates on this.