I’d forgotten how elegant and smart it was. Black and just above the knee, smart enough for smart occasions and smart-casual to wear anytime I might like. Two cute vertical pockets either side of the front each with a single button and just a couple of pleats falling to the bottom of the skirt. It had been lost to the pile of unused clothes at the back of the wardrobe.
I tried it on but the tasteful zip down the one side, rather than straight down the centre of the back, wouldn’t do right up to the top. I mean it was always just-about okay and it was never a perfect fit but now I doubted if it ever did do right to the top. I could zip all the way but I knew that it was so tight that it would probably move a few vital organs in my body around until the zipper broke.
I laid it out on the bed. It was covered in lint. I found my roller and tore off a used sticky layer exposing a new sticky surface and cleared the skirt of all the bits that even the washing machine would probably ignore. It looked as good as it did the day I bought it – but I still wasn’t going to fit into it properly.
I found a wooden hanger with skirt clips and hung it neat from the handle of the wardrobe. It hung there as a reminder of what I wanted, to loose a little weight. It was more symbolic than specifically about fitting into the skirt. I go on long double digit bike rides, once, sometimes twice a week but single thirty-mile bike rides just don’t seem to be enough to shift that inch from the morning chocolate that goes with my tea when I start work each day.
It wasn’t just age but also working from home since March and the cancelled weekly running events until further notice. The walk from the car after the morning commute helped a little to keep things at bay but with that walk now reduced to the kitchen to the study, bike rides were the only exercise I needed, but still not enough to find what I really wanted – to feel good about my body.
I had to make a decision now though. With working from home being in my foreseeable future and winter approaching I needed a plan. I need lots of little amounts of exercise each day, even if it’s ten minutes aerobic dvd or a kilometre around the village. Lots of little amounts to work on. The skirt on the hanger reminds me that if I want to feel better about myself then I need to make it happen, as long as making it happen also feels good.
Things don’t need to be just sorted on the outside. I need something on the inside. I took a break away from home for a few days in the city. Sometimes I find cycling around the countryside refreshes me with those breathtaking mountains and hills but sometimes I need that city life injection of energy and its innate electrification.
The hotel came with a gym, a good place to at least continue my dedication to the skirt shrine. It also had a pool where I could happily remind myself what I wanted to get rid of and be in total admiration of those who already had been able to keep the pounds off. Of course there were some guests who weren’t thin or shapely but the difference was that the shape of me with a little more around the waist and belly meant a more masculine beer induced shape. I wanted back what I had ten years ago, if that is possible. It just would be nice if it took it away from the stomach and felt free to leave what it felt like in the bum.
The next morning I walked out of the hotel early to find a newsagent. The streets were near deserted and it had that low noise that cities have on early mornings where you know the city itself hasn’t quite woken up or it’s at the breakfast counter, city eyes half open, having a Bagel. I found a newsagent and got somethings that I’d forgotten to take on my break in the rush to get ready for the last minute decision to go away the night before.
On the way back to the hotel I decided to pop down to the walkway bridge over the river that flowed either quickly heading towards the sea or fighting against the tide as it pushed against the river curdling and creating whirls. This morning it was in between those states, just still. It was nice looking out to the silhouette of the high rise buildings as the sun broke a little from behind the thin broken pebbles of clouds in the distance. The only noise now, apart from the city trying to wake up, was a small boat burbling its way underneath the bridge leaving soft ripples behind and the scratch of metal against tracks as an early train departed one side of the river for another. It was time for a few minutes reflection of the dream I’d had during the night.
I’d had a dream like this about a month or so ago but the difference was stark. The previous dream I’d woken from theoperation, but things had been half done and I remember thinking, ‘oh no, have I made a mistake, it’s not right.’ and not wanting for it to be half measures. But during the night, and may be it was just down to disturbed sleep from being in a new bed for the first night, but I had, once again, been in for an operation but this time it was after it had been done and it was right, it would change back, then back again (lets not going into detail). It was like the dream saying, ‘here you go, how do you feel about that’ which I would feel wow, that’s right. Then it would change back and it was like the dream was saying, ‘Don’t worry though, leave things as they are for now if you prefer.’
I think the difference between the two dreams were about changing outward gender not going right versus being content with what will come of it. Not specifically about the physical changes but about all the changes, social, psychological as well as the physical. As strange as dreams are, and specifically this new dream was strange enough, it was kind of comforting. It kind of felt like it was going hand-in-hand with my holiday and how I would feel being female during a happy time like that.
I returned to the hotel to wake properly myself and get on with the rest of my break. The essence of the dream stayed with me. I felt good about it for some reason. I felt like I’d made some emotional progress, not within the dream but because of the dream and how I felt about it.
Until next time.