The Honey Edit

Let’s be honest! I already knew the disaster waiting for me before I even opened the closet door.

But I opened it anyway.

And there they were: rows of jeans that once fit like a glove, dresses that made me feel like I had life somewhat together, and blazers I wore when “looking professional” was more important than comfort.

Now? Those clothes just hung there… silently judging.

I swear my closet was mocking me.

I stood there, flipping through hangers, thinking:

• Nope, these pants aren’t closing.
• Haven’t worn that dress since 2006.
• Was I ever really going to fit into this tiny skirt again?

It wasn’t just about clothes. It was about all those years I put myself last. All the times I told myself, “I’ll take care of me when things slow down.” Spoiler alert: they never do.

Between severe asthma, six rounds of COVID (yes, six), swelling legs, hip and back pain, juggling a demanding job, a household, and going back to school after 30 years — well, the closet became the last place I wanted to face.

So, I lived in whatever comfortable clothes I had tee shirts, really stretchy jeans, and the occasional stretch pants. At one point, I even grabbed a trash bag and threw a good chunk of my closet in it. Those bags? Yeah, they’re still sitting there.

But here’s the truth: avoiding my closet meant avoiding myself. And that’s no longer an option.

So, step one: opening the door, even if it’s scary. Step two: figuring out what stays, what goes, and what might actually make me feel like me again.

If your closet’s been giving you the side-eye, you’re not alone. Let’s open that door together.