It was time to do the annual clothes change over from winter to summer. My husband and I were also getting ready to leave for Florida to visit my mother-in-law for the long holiday weekend. I had experienced a long, busy week, so I was packing for the trip and switching my clothes at the same time. I knew I needed summer items for Florida. Due to the crunch, I did not have time to try on any of my summer clothes that had been packed in away in storage the previous fall. In the past, this would have sent me into a panic.

I came into FA weighing 287 pounds. My highest weight read 297 (right before I stopped weighing). Switching clothes for the summer season in the past was a dreaded, anxiety-ridden affair. Each year I knew it was time to “face the music” and admit how much weight I had gained. Pants and shorts were especially traumatic, as I carried so much weight in my rear, thighs, and calves that it was difficult to find pants that fit. Would I still be a size 24, or would I need a 26? Were my pants too worn between the thighs to wear this year? Where would I shop to get new pants?  I would start thinking that if I had been a good girl and actually had gone on a diet, some of the clothes might still fit. For 38 years, I was never able to take clothes, especially pants and shorts, from storage and trust that they would fit.

Although I have been in FA for 11 years, I have continued to struggle with a warped body image. Whenever I try on last year’s clothes, especially shorts and pants, there is still always a little anxiety about whether the clothes will fit. I thank my HP for a sponsor and fellows who reassure me that my body is a normal size, even when my disease tells me I’m getting fat. My body has stayed the same weight (give or take five pounds) and, of course the clothes always fit, and I am grateful and relieved.

This year, because I was so short of time, I had to quickly toss shorts, pants, and tops into the suitcase and drive to Florida. My disease tried to taunt me, “What will you wear when these pants don’t fit?” Will you have time to go shopping before your husband and mother-in-law realize you couldn’t fit into your clothes? Why didn’t you stay up all night trying on these clothes to make sure they fit? I made several FA calls, and my fellows and I laughed at how silly those statements sounded. Wasn’t my weight the same as it was last summer? Didn’t I continue to faithfully weigh and measure my food? Didn’t the very same clothes fit last year? The answer was of course, “Yes!”

I got to Florida, opened the suitcase, and told my disease that my pants were going to fit and look good. I wore cute outfit after cute outfit, size 4 or 6 (thank you very much)—same as last year, and the same as every year I stay in recovery. It’s so wonderful to know that even after all these years in FA, my HP and Program find ways to make me humble and grateful. I remain teachable and aware that my disease will never give up trying to trip me up! My husband and I are planning a few more travels this summer and no longer will I have to waste any more time trying on clothes “just in case.”