...actual name, White Bear. He's a boy bear in drag today.
I'm not really one for cutesy stuff, and I don't keep stuffed animals around. But bear is a regular dude, and best of all, he's a good sport.
I am having a hard time letting go of a few items of clothing that no longer fit. I missed them in the big closet clear-out I did a while back. Two black skirts and a white blouse. I found them today, and didn't know what to do. "Maybe I'll be able to wear these again," I thought.
Then Bear spoke up from the pile of moving-rubble in the corner.
"Those would fit me," he said.
"Way too big," I said.
"Let me try them then."
You can see the results - A pretty smashing ensemble on the little chap. The spandex skirt only fit on his head - hips were a bit too wide - but it made a nice pseudo-Dutch headress.
Together, we made a rule: if the clothes fit Bear, they shouldn't fit me.
I'm still feeling sad about it though. I'd never felt good in a skirt before... but when I was thin enough to wear these, I no longer felt much fear that anyone could think I was too lumpy and bulgy to show my legs. I felt like I had a little window there, to be beautiful, to be safe from cruel judgements. I'll never fit those skirts again unless I am sick again, so they have to go. But it's hard. It feels like I'm saying goodbye to my chance to be beautiful.
There. Said it. Beautiful like Ms. Frederika "white bear" van Ijsbeer.
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