Style Journal: Making My Peace with Pants

 As an adolescent - really as a tween - I learned that some clothes and styles were off-limits because of my weight.  Once the dreaded "not flattering" concern was uttered by my mom and grandmother, extreme self-consciousness set in.  A fear of being too fat, and therefore unworthy, took hold.  I remember dieting at the age of 12 when I weighed all of 125 pounds and was 5’3”.  After age 12, I didn’t go to public places where swimsuits were being worn.  Rather than reject the message that I was unworthy because of my body, I molded my life around the limits sent by that message.  For more than 25 years, I mostly refused to wear pants or shorts because I could not stand my appearance in them.  This avoidance continued long after a therapist explained to me that I have body dysmorphia.  She helped me to develop the tools to manage the feelings brought on by the dysmorphia and though I still experience an inaccurate view of my physical appearance, I understand it to be a thing that I don’t have to believe or accept.  So the dysmorphia exists away from my sense of self.  

All of this is relevant because my current disabled status has made pants a rather valuable asset in my world.  In the Winter, I wear tights with skirts and dresses.  But as my hip disability has worsened, the process of putting on tights in the morning became difficult and then unbearable.  This  weekend, I gave up Winter tights in exchange for pants.  They are loose-fitting pants - in a size too large, as is my way - but putting them on is manageable and doesn’t aggravate my crummy hip.  I think that the transition to pants has been made easier by the abundance of wide-leg styles.  I regularly buy clothes that are too big (see: coping with body dysmorphia) and wide-leg pants are a style gift.  I like them in various forms, though especially soft, flowy knits — pants my sister has named “dress sweats.” I think I will love them even after my hip has been fixed.  I’ll not call that the silver lining of the misery - there is not silver lining enough for what I’ve been through - but it is something.