So a question: if I’m “spring” cleaning, does that mean spring is on its way (even if the groundhog may have said something different)?
Today was the beginning of what I can only imagine is going to be a 3 day purge of my bedroom. Technically I started last weekend, but today has been the first instance of real first cleaning so today will be known as the beginning. Real cleaning. Not just tucking things away, but going through everything–every drawer, every box, every nook and corner–and figuring out what I want, what I don’t want, and even what maybe I don’t need anymore. That last one is probably the hardest for me and I haven’t even reached my closet yet! That is something I have inherited from my mother. She is a total pack rat and unfortunately, as evident from everything in my bedroom, so am I.
I’ve written before about cleaning, and more specifically, about going through my closet. And once again here I am going through my closet, and figuring out what goes, what stays and what I could never ever get rid of. But there is something comforting in the fact that I know my clothes are going into a good home. One of my friends is obsessed with my closet and the second she heard I was going to be getting rid of some things she made me promise I would get rid of nothing before she had a chance to take a look. And of course I could not say “no”. Because she appreciates the clothes. She will take care of them.
And more than anything–clothes need to be taken care of.
What makes me sad is that a lot of my clothes have been tucked into my closet and haven’t been adored the way they should. My goal for 2009 was to be me again, whatever that means. And looking back over the last six years that Andrew and I have been dating, I have shifted from being the girl he fell in love with–someone who wore everything she owned, who dressed for her, and dressed up–into someone who just wears clothes for the sake of covering up. To hide. I’m so tired of hiding. I’m so tired of feeling like I fade into the background. Maybe it’s watching Sex and The City: the movie while I clean my room, but I want to wear my clothes. I want to wear everything.
I’ve said this before, and I tried, but I didn’t try hard enough. And I think maybe more than just purging my closet I need to purge that part of me which is scared, that wants to hide. It’s time to be honest to myself. This person isn’t who I am, and I’m not going to start feeling undeniably happy until I actually start to feel like I am being honest to who I am. And if that means going out wearing a pair of leather-like tights, bought for eight dollars, to the grocery store then at least I am being honest to who I am.
And I think Carrie Bradshaw would approve.