I know this stage pretty well by now, it usually means I’m bored to death by my current projects and am developing a massive bout of startitis. But that’s not what I am getting at. What really surprised me is that I noticed a change in the projects I queued.
For years now my queue, especially when it comes to sweaters, has been full of the most outrageous, lacy and frilly concoctions you could come up with. One of them prettier than the other, only not a single one bore any resemblance to the stuff I actually like to wear. Lace on a sweater usually means I have to wear something underneath to make it safe for work, and I don’t like to wear too many layers. And ruffles and frills look pretty silly with my favourite type of footwear, the common trekking boot. So how on earth did all that frill and lace end up in my project queue in the first place?
I think it had a lot to do with my personal Fantasy of Being Thin. For most of my life I was convinced that once I finally shed that weight, I’d be the perfect, bubbly, popular, girly girl my parents had expected me to be (once they had come to terms with the fact that I was not the son they had hoped for). Then, four years ago, I went on a diet for the last time and finally understood that it just doesn’t work and that I will never be slim. I wasn’t meant to from the beginning, and 30 years of dieting had only made me fatter. My hope of ever being thin died the day I went off that last diet, and good riddance.
But I was not ready yet to really let go. Now that the “get thin first” part of my Fantasy of Being Thin was out of the way I felt like I had to live up to all the rest of it. And that’s how all this lace and frill ended up in my ravelry queue. If I was never going to be a thin girly girl I sure as hell was going to be a fat girly girl - and I still did not dare to ask myself “But do I want to?” The fact that all these projects lingered in my queue and never got started might have been a hint that they did not speak to me on a “want to wear” level, only I never came to that conclusion. As I already said, I was not ready yet.
So the change I noticed in my ravelry queue really speaks of a bigger change: I’m finally starting to accept who I am. When I was a little girl my Mom always used to complain that I was such a tomboy. And it turns out: I still am. I feel more comfortable in a simple zippered cardi and a pair of jeans than in a dress, and I don’t think anything will ever change my undying love for cargo pants (lots of pockets, you know?). I like clothing that I can move in, and I don’t like if I have to double-check all the time how much of my body I’m revealing. I prefer shoes that I can actually walk in, keep my hair in a plain braid, haven’t had it cut in 15 years and I don’t do makeup. And it has taken me 44 years of my life and a lot of hard work to realise that it’s o.k.