"Nope. Everything's perfect. That's just how much I want. I feel great with that so any more might not be good."
"Okay, if you're sure. I want you to have exactly what you want."
"I've just had it."
He winked at me, and I put my head back on his shoulder as he cuddled me close.
Chapter Forty
Feeling loose and relaxed after a terrific yoga class, I worked my way through my closet pulling out everything I hadn't worn in the last week and tossing it onto my bed. I'd take that reader's advice and spend a peaceful happy Sunday afternoon shopping for free and reorganizing my closet at the same time.
It didn't quite turn out as planned, though. I'd expected to be surprised and pleased at finding old friends hidden away in the back of the closet, but instead a frightening number of the pieces I hauled out didn't even look familiar. How could I have so much stuff I didn't even remember buying?
Figuring it couldn't be as bad as it seemed, I divided the stuff on my bed into things I remembered and things I didn't.
Then, once I'd proven it was worse than it seemed, I sat on the bed beside the far larger pile of things I didn't remember and tried to stretch out my neck to get back to the nice relaxed feeling I'd had before I'd started this. No luck, though. I was too shocked to relax.
I didn't recognize most of the things in my closet. I'd obviously spent money on them, and at least a little time picking them out, and yet they meant absolutely nothing to me and I never wore them. Of course, how could I since I didn't remember they existed?
Three scarves sat atop the 'unrecognized' pile and I draped them side by side over my lap to see if I could figure out what had gone wrong. The green one's main color was lovely, although there was a bright yellow thread running through it that I didn't like. Its silvery neighbor had gold sequins edging it, and I'd never been one for beads and sequins. The last was gorgeous with its soft blues and purples and greens all overlapping each other like a watercolor painting, but as I picked it up to take a closer look I realized its fabric was rough and scratchy. No wonder I'd never worn it.
But huge wonder as to why I'd bought it, and the others, in the first place. I'd often thought that I'd never been disappointed with my thrift buys. Perhaps that was true only because I forgot all about most of them after I bought them. What had possessed me to buy three scarves with elements I didn't like? Why hadn't I realized I wouldn't wear them?
I began plowing through the pile, giving each item the attention I obviously hadn't given it at the time of purchase then sorting the mess into things I would keep and things I wouldn't. Halfway through, though, I stopped and settled onto the bedroom carpet where I could see both the piles and my closet. I needed to think.
The keep pile was getting huge because I kept justifying things with 'it's pretty enough' or 'I could probably figure out how to use it' or 'it's here so I might as well hang on to it'. I'd probably used the same justifications when I bought the stuff. But were those reasons good enough to keep it?
Staring into my nearly empty closet where only the things I actually wore remained, I saw the teal scarf I loved and two others I also wore frequently. There were probably fifty scarves on the bed, none of which came even close to being as adored as those three. So why keep the fifty when I could have the three?
The idea of giving up the variety made my stomach twist, but I took deep breaths and told myself two truths. First, I wasn't wearing those other things so I wouldn't miss them, and second, I would bag up everything I decided not to keep but I wouldn't do anything with the bags until I was sure I wouldn't be devastated by losing my options.
I took one more deep breath then got up and recombined the piles into one. This time, the item had to make my heart sing. If it was okay, or 'good enough', or 'well, maybe', then it was leaving. Only the stuff that suited me right to the ground would stay.
To my surprise, this sorting was far easier. I picked up each item and listened to my immediate reaction, and for most things, I made the decision right there with no doubts or hesitations. For the few that were trickier, I tried them on and checked them out in the free-standing mirror Percy had put together for me. That resolved nearly every issue, but at the end I still hadn't decided what to do with that beautiful watercolor scarf. I'd never wear it around my neck because it wasn't comfortable, and I'd tried it as a belt and tied in my hair and it didn't work, but every time I reached out to drop it on the discard pile I couldn't make my fingers release it. Getting rid of it felt wrong.
After a little more indecision I stuffed the scarf through a few gaps in the decorative frame around the mirror, planning to leave it there out of the way while I cleaned up and then make myself get rid of it.
Even wound in quickly, though, it looked amazing on the mirror, turning the boring wooden frame into something incredible. I'd planned to buy a flower garland to decorate the mirror, and I would never have thought a scarf would work instead, but it was perfect. I rearranged it, fluffing it up so the colors flashed out beautifully, then began finding the keepers their spots in my closet.
I cut a few more things as I worked, recognizing they weren't quite as right for me as I'd originally thought, but eventually my closet was reborn. Wherever I looked I saw things I loved, and though I hadn't realized I'd felt a guilty sort of sickness whenever I went into the closet I now knew I had because I didn't feel it any more. What I had now was thoroughly perfect for me.
I looked at the pile on my bed. I'd planned to keep it around in case I changed my mind about getting rid of the things it contained, but with how much I loved the way my closet felt now I couldn't imagine I would.
One at a time, I stuffed each piece into what ended up being three garbage bags, giving myself one last chance to realize I'd gotten rid of something I'd miss. It didn't happen, so I tied the bags shut and hauled them to the front door. I'd take them to the charity thrift store down the road right now and free up all that space.
I picked up my purse and froze. I was keeping only things that made my heart sing, and while I loved the look of the purse I found myself grumbling far more than singing when I used it. I'd had to change my wallet and keychain and leave behind things I liked to bring with me, all because the purse didn't fit my needs. Didn't that mean it should go too?
My fingers brushed over its furry trim, as they had over and over during the months I'd longed for it, and I knew I couldn't let it go. It wasn't quite right but it was so close, and so adorable too. I got compliments on it all the time from cashiers and waitresses and random women in shops, and it was working better since I'd cut back on what I kept with me.
No, I still wanted it. Plus, it had been awfully expensive and I wouldn't get even close to what I'd paid if I took it back to the consignment shop, and at the thrift shop I'd get nothing. My finances were much better now that my cheesecake and Starbucks purchases weren't everyday occurrences but I still didn't want to waste that money, and I also didn't want to set aside what I'd wanted for so long.
I drove to the thrift shop and gave the three bags to the clerk, then left before I could start freaking out over what I was giving up. In the car on the way home, though, I realized I hadn't had to rush: there was no freaking out at all. The truth was, I'd been carrying a lot of things with me that I didn't want any more, and now that I'd gotten rid of them I had room for more if I found something perfect but also room to see how great everything I already had really was.
I spent three lovely hours that afternoon playing dress-up with the keepers in my closet, and I enjoyed every minute.
Chapter Forty-One
It took me far less time to get dressed Monday morning since the clutter was gone from my closet, so I was at work a full half hour earlier than usual. I set to work writing my Monday morning post, the last one I'd be doing for the challenge since the project would end on Friday, but though I probably wrote three times as many words as I actually needed I kept deleting them because they just didn't feel right. They weren't ho
nest, and I wanted them to be.
I'd been putting on a front with my readers for a long time, playing the role of the smart spunky single woman who had all the sex and shopping and cheesecake she could possibly want and no doubts about anything she did. But I had lots of doubts, and I didn't like that I'd been hiding them from the women who were so good at pouring out their hearts to me.
I erased what little I'd managed to write, took a deep breath and a sip of my tea, and let the truth come out.
Ladies, happy Monday morning! I have something to say that may shock you: my life isn't perfect. I act like it is when I post here, like I'm always happy and perfectly self-assured and delighted with where my life's going. But I don't want to act any more. I want to be me. Today is our self-care day and I want to take care of myself by admitting who I really am. So here's me:
1) I have eaten far too much cheesecake over the course of this challenge because 'indulging must be good for me'. Well, it's not, at least not all the time. There's nothing nicer than that first taste of cheesecake when you've really been craving it and nothing more sickening than the last bite when you'd had enough three bites ago.
2) I've thrown money away for the quick fix of energy and happiness that shopping brings, and this has been going on much longer than just the challenge because this weekend I got rid of three bags of stuff from my closet and today I wouldn't be able to tell you anything that was in those bags. In the past I've bought anything that was even adequate, and I'm afraid I've encouraged you to do the same thing by pushing 'retail therapy' as a cure for the problems in life. You know what? Buying a new scarf never fixed anything but a naked neck.
3) I've done other stuff too, which I don't particularly feel like sharing on the Internet, which left me feeling wrong and off-balance. When I think of my actions over the last few weeks, a lot of them are probably the exact opposite of 'being good to myself'.
4) But I'm not beating myself up for it. I have learned that it's unbelievably hard to be good to yourself. It sounds so simple and it just isn't. What was good for me a year ago might not be now, and what feels good right this second might be the worst thing I could do. There's no perfection here, I don't think. All we can aim for is a steady effort to take better care of ourselves. A huge part of that is not beating yourself up when you don't succeed. We've all made mistakes, and it's recognizing those and trying to do better that will help us improve how we live our lives.
5) One of the biggest mistakes I've made is presenting myself as someone I'm not. I know from your past comments that some of you have felt like you couldn't 'live up' to me and how I act, and I'm ashamed to say that I enjoyed that on some level. I often feel like I'm lost and clueless and stumbling through life blindfolded, and your comments made me feel like it wasn't obvious. But I do feel that way, and I bet lots of you do too. I should have been working with you to find ways for all of us to feel more sure of what we're doing and how we're living, but instead I pretended I didn't feel the same as you did. I am deeply sorry about that, because I think all of us have lost out as a result.
So here's the plan, for the rest of this week and then on into the future. I will tell you the truth. I admit I may not give you every last gory detail but I won't ever sugar-coat my life again. I don't think it works for me or for you.
I don't always go out and party like I make it sound. This Saturday night, I stayed home and watched the Hogs kick Montreal's butt with my dog on one side of me on the couch and a wonderful guy friend on the other side. And I loved it. Then I spent Sunday playing in my closet and I loved that too.
I'm done hiding. Over the last few weeks I've gotten rid of a lot of things that have been in my way for months or even years. I'm not sure where I'm going now that they're out of my way, but I can't wait to find out and I can't wait to find out where you go either.
Have a wonderful day, my dear readers. I adore you more than I could ever say, and I'm sorry I haven't been thoroughly honest with you.
I reread the words, which I'd typed in one long burst, and by the end I was grinning at the screen. Yes. It needed to be said.
I hit 'post' and went to the staff meeting.
*****
After the meeting, which was typically dull although enlivened slightly by Percy doodling pictures of Paddington, both my dog and his namesake bear, on his notepad for my entertainment, I went back to my desk to see how my readers had responded to my post. Even though it had only been an hour, there were tons of replies and a spirited discussion was under way.
A few of my regular commenters had thanked me for my honesty and told their own tales of not being as good to themselves as they wanted, but then a frequent poster took things in a different direction.
I'm shocked that you liked us feeling bad because you seemed to have the perfect life. You didn't tell us the truth and you enjoyed our sadness? I thought we could trust you and apparently I was wrong. I'm out of here.
Several responses followed, some agreeing with her and some pointing out that I'd apologized for that and had explained why it had happened, but she hadn't replied and when I clicked on her profile name she'd deleted her account. Knowing I'd offended her enough to make her leave made me feel sick.
But the rest of the discussion helped to make me feel better, since overall people seemed to be taking the post the way I'd intended it, so I got to work on my emails and popped back in every so often to respond to comments. The office seemed mellow, which was nice. Even Patricia was in a good mood, talking to Percy about how she wanted to plan ahead and get her Christmas card labels organized on the computer and taking his advice on how to do it without her usual 'I can barely stand being in your company' tone.
At around eleven-thirty, a strange squeaking sound made me raise my head to see Percy rolling his chair across the office toward me. I watched him, thinking of how nice his arm had felt around me on Saturday night and how sweet he was, and by the time he reached me I was grinning at him.
He grinned back. "Hungry?"
"Yes, actually. You?"
"Yup. It's early, but I was thinking of Steel, since we had such a good lunch there last time. Want to go?"
"Definitely. Let me finish this email and I'm set."
He nodded and began rolling his chair back to its place.
"You could have just walked over," I called after him.
"Now you tell me."
I laughed and kept on responding to a reader's comment she hadn't wanted to post publicly. In the past I'd deleted everything like this, since responding one-on-one took a ton of time and didn't help my site numbers, but it felt right now to connect with her. I finished my note to her, and two quick ones to other readers who were thanking me for my honesty, then said, "Percy, I'm good to go."
"You got it," he said, and in moments we were at the elevator door together.
"Have a good lunch," Sasha said as the door slid open, and I turned back and smiled at her then joined Percy in the elevator.
When we began moving downward, I realized I could have invited Sasha. I hadn't even considered it. I didn't consider it then, either, though I could easily have called her to suggest she meet us at Steel. There was something soothing and delightful about being alone with Percy and I didn't want to spoil it, not even by bringing my new friend Sasha along.
I was glad I hadn't when we were seated and checking out our menus, because Percy said, "Flipper?" in a half-nervous-half-tender tone that made my heart jump.
"Yes?"
"Your post from this morning? That's the best thing I've ever seen on the site. Really great."
He might not have said that if Sasha had been there, and I wouldn't have had the delicious rush of happiness and clean pure pride that his words gave me. "Thank you. It just seemed like the right time to be honest with my readers."
He smiled. "But you weren't quite."
I blinked. "No?"
"You said Paddington was on the couch with you."
I laughed. "He was, technically."
"No, he was in my lap."
"Which was on the couch."
"Being crushed into the couch, you mean. What does that dog weigh anyhow?"
"Eighty pounds or so?"
"No wonder my legs went numb."
I grinned at him. "I did offer to make him move."
"I know, but he was so cute."
They had been so cute. Paddington had climbed up on the couch then shifted himself a little at a time, obviously trying to be subtle, until he was almost entirely in Percy's lap. Something about being buried by my dog had made Percy gloriously adorable; he'd never seemed so cute before. Luckily for me they'd stayed together for nearly an hour and I'd been able to admire them the whole time. "Well, it was nice of you to let him stay. I know he appreciated it."
He smiled at me, something serious in his eyes. "I appreciated being there. I... I had a great time with you."
I felt a way I'd never felt with Percy before: shy. "Me too. With you, I mean."
His smile widened but he didn't speak, and we sat smiling at each other for the few moments until the waiter came to take our order.
Chapter Forty-Two
No hockey game that night, and I felt strange about inviting Percy over without that as a reason so though I'd have liked his company I didn't contact him. There was something happening between us and I didn't know what it was.
I'd always thought he was too flaky and unfocused to ever be boyfriend material even if he hadn't been the classic nice guy. Now, he was still a nice guy but he was turning his life around, and I couldn't believe how much I enjoyed spending time with him, especially when I got to be wrapped in his arms.
Toronto Collection Volume 3 (Toronto Series #10-13) Page 21