The only designer dress I've ever owned, the most beautiful piece of clothing I've ever purchased, fit me briefly one summer at university and never again (I had slimmed down to wear it, without educating myself on sustainable weight loss). After a while, I thought I'd never wear it again, but I kept it for my future potential daughter to wear. I didn't realise it at the time, but in making that decision - and that distinction - I'd given up on a part of myself. I remembered the dress last night and tried it on this morning, curious but skeptical. My brain told me it theoretically should fit, but my eyes weren't prepared to believe it. Tears welled. It looked better than it did 10 years ago! I had given up on myself, on a vision for my life. I was wrong.
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