Dressing Your Real Self: The Battle Between Fantasy Size and Reality
Turning 49 comes with a slew of lessons, some deep and meaningful, others… well, let’s just say they’re humbling. Case in point: buying clothes for the real me, not the fantasy me.
You know the fantasy self, right? She’s the version of you who’s rocking a size six or eight, strutting confidently into every room like she’s the main character of a movie montage. The one who definitely doesn’t hit snooze on her workouts or sneak that extra cookie at midnight. Unfortunately, my actual self—the one living in the real world—hasn’t been a size six or eight in years, and let’s be honest, probably never will be again.
This became painfully clear during a recent shopping trip. I found myself holding up two pairs of 👖 pants 👖— one in a size medium and one in a size large. The size medium slid on with a satisfying “Yes! They fit!” moment, but I heard this tiny, nagging voice in my head: Buy clothes for the body you have now, not the one you wish you had.
For as long as I can remember, shopping for clothes has come with its own internal dialogue—a tug-of-war between my reality and my “fantasy self.” You know, that version of me who could wear a size six or eight effortlessly, even though, in reality, my body seems quite content as a size ten or twelve.
Cue the internal debate. On one hand, I loved that I could zip up the mediums, even if they were holding on for dear life . On the other hand, the size large felt… comfortable. A little less “pinchy” , a little less precarious. They fit me. But oh, the sting of choosing comfort over fantasy💔 .
I stood there for what felt like an eternity, staring at myself in the dressing room mirror, pondering the age-old question: “Do I want to be able to breathe when I sit down?” Spoiler alert: I left the store with the size large.
It was a tough pill to swallow. Opting for the large instead of clinging to the medium felt like admitting defeat. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t about giving up—it was about honoring the body I have right now. Buying clothes that actually fit means feeling comfortable, confident, and—most importantly—myself.
And you know what? I’ve been happier for it. Sure, stretchy pants might not be the badge of honor my fantasy self imagined, but they’re also not cutting off my circulation. 👖
There’s something liberating about embracing where you are right now instead of constantly chasing an unrealistic standard.
A Size-Large Lesson in Self-Acceptance
This isn’t just about pants. It’s about shedding the unnecessary pressure to measure up to some imaginary version of ourselves. It’s about learning to appreciate where we are in the moment—even if it’s a size up from where we thought we’d be. Because honestly, who are we trying to impress?
At 49, I’m realizing life is too short to wear pants that make you miserable. Whether it’s stretchy pants, flowy dresses, or even a sparkly jumpsuit (hey, a girl can dream), I’m choosing to focus on what feels good now. Not someday. Not when I lose those last five pounds. Now.
What About You?
Have you ever found yourself in the same boat, wrestling between buying what fits versus what you think should fit? How did you navigate it? Let me know in the comments—I’d love to hear your thoughts on embracing reality over fantasy (especially if it involves stretchy pants).
