Anorexia Is a Cunning and Insidious Illness

I’m starting a new job in two weeks. It’s hybrid remote so I will be going into the office in midtown Manhattan two days a week. I’ve been working remotely since 2015, so I haven’t gone into an office in over eight years.

I had to take stock of my wardrobe. My uniform for the last eight-plus years has been leggings — primarily black ones — and business casual tops. I only have one closet, so I store my out-of-season clothes in a trunk in my building’s storage space in. When I started my first remote job, it was spring, so many of my winter clothes were put in storage there — and that’s where they have remained.

A couple of weeks ago, I dragged this trunk up to my apartment. I had no idea what kind of shape my clothes would be in when I opened it, but other than terribly wrinkled, I was pleasantly surprised.

They ranged in sized from very small to large, which accommodated my fluctuating body size over the years. I began the arduous process of trying just the pants on expecting to be triggered at almost every turn. (I didn’t bother trying on the skirts as I doubted I’d be wearing them.) My problem is that I don’t like clothes that fit; I like everything to be big, but office clothes are mean to fit, and I had to keep reminding myself of that. Some of them were too big and it was hard to let them go because they were beautiful and some of them were too small, and it was hard not to hold…