Yesterday I tried on black faux-leather leggings in a consignment store. I Mick Jaggered out of the change room toward my sister and got an "OMG amazing” reaction.
I’m back to my previous weight BC (before cancer). I’ve lost 35 pounds over the last seven months. Post-menopausal belly remains, but it feels good to fit into my clothes again. And of course, I have more ease shopping in my favourite stores again. The weight loss method isn’t one I’d recommend though. Over the last year, I’ve had one chemotherapy that has caused IBS and another that boasted weight loss as a side-effect. Whatever will happen with this third chemo I start at the end of the month? Will I change pant sizes yet again?!! Wow, what suspense - the adventure continues!
For now, I’m Jen size again. Yet, I feel like a shell of my former self.
I still have my love for fashion and black clothes. And for all the great things that keep me interested in life. But the longer I live with cancer, no matter how grateful, I keep losing bits of my identity. The Jen that would go to a late-night concert, to a client meeting, or on a carefree date in these new fierce leggings doesn’t fully exist anymore. She exists in fragments.
I know that as we age we all change how we act, what we’re into, what we can tolerate, and what we enjoy doing. But I’m changing at a pace I can’t grasp or ease in to.
Last night I wore the leggings as I danced to the new Gorillaz album in my bedroom. Compare this righteous image to the week prior - I'm wearing the same sweat-shorts and t-shirt three days in a row while housebound due to muscle pain and depression.
It’s surreal sometimes how my energy and abilities change so drastically from one day to the next.
I may not get a lot of chances to wear these leggings out in the world. But this one night of wearing them at home, feeling luscious, and having fun dancing in-front of the mirror was money well spent.
And so, I need to keep finding black leather leggings moments that bring me elevated amounts of joy in a life that keeps morphing and slipping away too quickly.