Is it time to come out of hiding?

Come out of hiding Tuesday!

What did I do over the weekend?

I let go of and donated my old life.

Say what?

Yes! The old Joan who hasn’t lived that life for years, decades even.

Where was she hidden?

In the back of a closet, a deep closet, hidden in the dark, out of the way. An old life that no longer existed. The life I lived well.

In the dark, hidden were business suits, the outfit I wore to my daughter’s wedding, my college graduation gown from 1985, and a fancy cocktail dress.

Three suits I couldn’t bear to part with … Expensive, beautifully tailored suits. Classic. Oh, they were so me in my “successful” corporate days. A required dress code as a CPA in a large firm. I was often mistaken as a partner which would make me chuckle in delight.

A cocktail dress I wore on my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary cruise. A wonderful 16-day Caribbean cruise where beautiful memories were made. 

My parents are both gone now, but the memories of that time are not. That just made it even more difficult to let go of this dress.

The gorgeous suit I wore to my daughter’s wedding. The top was sparkly. The buttons all matched the top. The color eggplant. And it fit me perfectly without tailoring, right off the rack. In fact, it was the only one left in the store, and it was on the mannequin — waiting patiently for me to say, yes, this is the one!

My college graduation gown and mortar board — from 1985! I returned to college after my divorce. I was a single Mom when I began that journey (married when I finally graduated) and got my business and economics degree.

I let them all go. Reliving the memories which each item held. These were all the things I held sacred. Inviolate. Untouchable.

Until Sunday.

Out of hiding, they came. Each item was lovingly displayed so I could capture them digitally. Then I folded them neatly and gave them away.

The freedom, once I let them go, was palatable. It finally freed me of the old stories, the past Joan, a belief I needed to keep them, and that someday I’d wear them. 

I did have to chuckle when someone said, “Oh, pleated skirts are so vintage!” Holy moly, I’d hung onto them so long they were now vintage? 

I won’t kid you … This wasn’t easy.

The one I most struggled with was the suit for my daughter’s wedding. It reminded me of the search for what I wanted to wear and could not find. As the wedding day crept closer and closer, my daughter nervously asked,  “What are you going to wear, Mom?” And, I jokingly said, sweats!

Now, whoosh, they are gone. With no regrets. It was time.

What is it you have hidden, and you hold sacred, yet it holds you prisoner to an old you — an old way of life?

Could now be the time to set yourself free?