A Letter To My Jeans...

Dear Jeans,

I was in the closet the other day, looking for something to wear. You see, a few days ago, Fall weather decended upon us and I wanted something to keep me warm. I saw you peaking out from the top shelf. It almost looked like you were hiding from me. I can't imagine why you would hide from me, when you used to eagerly await my arrival on the first day of Fall.

We have always gotten along so well. You were there when I needed something to make me look good. You were there when we slouched around on the couch together. And you were there when I needed something comfortable to wear to a party.

This year, I haven't looked forward to seeing you at all, so maybe, it was me hiding from you.

Why would I hide from you? Well, since the last time you cupped my butt so well, everything is different.

So it's not you...it's me who has changed.

You are still the perfect size that you have always been. You are perfectly worn in all the places you need to be. I remember all the times that I could just slip you right on, without any argument from me, or you. We've known each other for years.

I guess all good things must come to an end.

I know you must be wondering why our relationship needs to end, so I guess I owe you an explanation.

The past few months, I've made a few new friends. Namely, ice cream and heavy whipping cream. They have convinced me that we make a good combination. They make me feel good when I eat them and they never leave my side(s) once we have met. On the contrary, even when I exercise and I need a break from their side effects, they refuse to leave.

Someone recently mentioned the word "menopause" might be an issue with all these changes, but they quickly shut their mouth when I gave them the stink eye.

In addition to these new friends, I have had another big change in my life. Since turning 49, my friend metabolism has changed. This new metabolism has decided to slow me down. It has also decided that I should fill in and get a little bit curvy. Gone are the days of being skinny. Gone are the days of looking like I was in my 30's. I have been convinced, by my metabolism, that I must move on to another size of jeans.

I know the last few years have been hard on you, never knowing if you would slip right on or if it would be a struggle. If I'm honest, I won't miss the days of lying on my bed and trying to get you up my hips. Sometimes jumping up and down on my floor as I tugged you up my legs. Remember that time I put the hanger in the top of that hole in the zipper to help me get a grip on the zipper? I almost got hurt on that one.  I will not miss the days of having a little muffin top on my waist once I got you buttoned. That just looks scary. I'm sure it is scary for you too, being suffocated by all that extra skin.

So, I guess change is a good thing.

I will be sending you to another home where someone else can love you and treasure you just like I did all these years.

Good luck to you,

Sad But True Life Of A Middle Aged Woman