There is a dress in my closet.
It's pretty and flirty and several shades of blue.
And it's a size 14 but I am not.
Not even close.
I remember buying this dress. My sister and I were at the mall looking for something for me to wear to her wedding and we wandered into a small store that had a lot of clearance items. I loved the dress when I saw it but was convinced I'd never fit into it, that it wouldn't look good, that I was too fat for it...but my sister convinced me to try it on.
And it looked really good.
So I took it home and hung it up to wait for her wedding after taking a picture of me in it.
That was the only time that dress fit.
I realized that only when I was getting dressed for the wedding. My hips, thighs, stomach, chest....everything had expanded in the time between buying and putting it on but, of course, the dress had not.
So I put it away and wore something I knew would fit me. It wasn't pretty or flirty or blue. But it fit.
I realized today that the dress has been in my closet for almost ten years. Ten years of not fitting because I've gained too much weight.
It did come out now and then. A few times I thought about selling it on Ebay.
A couple of years ago my bf Sarah tried it on and it was huge on her. But then again she's small and thin and I'm not.
But, still here it hangs, in my closet, waiting for the day when it'll be taken out and worn.
And that day will come no matter how long it takes because it's not just a dress. It's the dress.
It's a dress I felt beautiful in. It's a dress that worked with my body. It's a dress that made me feel thin and flirty and pretty.
And that kind of dress doesn't belong in the back on a closet, abandoned and forgotten.
It's meant to be worn.