Our home has four bedrooms. With our children grown and gone, my clothes have expanded to occupy the closets of all four bedrooms. (Yes, I allow my husband to have a portion of one closet.)
Lest you think that I am obsessed with clothes, let me put your mind at rest. I don't have that many wearable clothes. Those clothes represent four different sizes: the size I currently am, the size I was two years ago, the size I was four years ago, and the size I want to be.
It's a sad state of affairs, I know. However, I don't think I'm alone in my closet expansion. Women of my age tend to hold onto clothes, praying, hoping that someday, somehow, we will return to our dream size.
I am trying to make peace with the size I currently am, just as I am trying to make peace with my body. I remind myself that, with my new hip, my body functions and functions quite well, thank you. I can walk. I can lift a basket of laundry. I can hold a grandchild in my arms.
This peace is hard-won. But, then, so is everything about a menopausal woman. We battle hot flashes, memory loss, and creaking joints. But we won't be kept down. At least not for long!