Dear Pink Skinny Jeans,
It's been a long time, hasn't it? I honestly forgot you existed until I pulled my pants drawer open today and saw your bright, happy tint pushing through the dark murk of denim and business casual black.
I'm sorry. I haven't meant to be so distant, but then again...maybe I have.
At this point, I've forgotten when I got you, only that it had to have been at least three years ago. Maybe it was for Christmas or my birthday. I don't know. All I know is that in those three years, I haven't worn you once.
I've kind of hated the thought.
You see, I always thought that if I wore you, I'd look bad. That your light color would make my hips look extra big and my legs extra chubby. I always felt extra self-conscious looking at you and knew people would stare if I walked around wearing you. So I stored you away and haven't touched you since. I made it my life goal to avoid light-colored pants, and you were no exception.
Until today.
Today I pulled you out, lovingly unfolded you, and thought to myself, "Huh. Let's try this again."
I slipped into the bathroom and slipped you on, loving the way you fit snugly around my waist and legs. When I looked in the mirror, I didn't see big hips or legs. I saw a girl rocking a pair of pink skinny jeans and not giving one iota about whether or not they increased the width of her thighs. How many things have I kept myself from wearing or doing because I've been afraid of what people might think, I now wonder. How many things might I like if only I would get over my reservations and the opinions of society? Probably a lot.
So today, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry I cared so much more about how I might look than about wearing a color that makes me happy. I'm sorry I based my self-esteem on something so trivial. I'm sorry that I made the perceived width of my hips priority number one instead of my ability to express myself.
I kind of like you, Pink Skinny Jeans, and I don't really care what I look like when I wear you.
Let's hang out more often, okay?
Love,
Ari