Nope. I’m not [really] going to talk about my old shirts nor am I selling them because, frankly, they’re as good as rags. However, I still keep them. Viewing it from another’s perspective, I guess those shirts represent something metaphoric. I’ll tell you what . . .
It just came to me while sorting out my laundry why I’m always washing one of my ratty old shirts — the one that looked like it got caught in a mine field with multiple holes in it (and I never bother to sew them close or mend them), almost threadbare with the faded logo of something in front (that I couldn’t remember what) from frequent washing. I just realized that for more than 15 years, I’ve been wearing and washing the darn thing at least once a week and it looked so pitiful yet I can’t seem to let go of it.
It’s because despite its depressing condition, it’s comfortably soft from wear and it makes me sleep better at night.
In a way, that ratty old shirt represents my comfort zone. I’ve had it for so long that I don’t even know if I’ll have the balls to throw it away anytime soon — not for sentimental reasons though.
That thought ushered the question: Why is it so difficult to let go of something comfortable . . . something familiar . . . of something old and not as functional as when I first had it? Continue reading Ratty Old Shirts