If you haven’t ever seen the movie Tommy Boy, it’s quite entertaining, and good for a few laughs.
In the clip above, Tommy Boy is clearly too large for his coat. Or maybe his coat is too small for him.
Either way, the clothes and the man are no longer a good fit for one another. The man has outgrown the coat.
And it’s obvious. Clearly he did this for a laugh, but as soon as he even picks the jacket up, it’s painfully obvious that it’s not going to fit.
My daughter, Hope, is not afraid to fight this reality with all of her stubborn might. She will put on a pair of shorts that, based on their tightness, would make Super Bowl Lady Gaga blush, and then swear up and down that they still fit.
As I’m rubbing her legs with Crisco, so we can get the shorts off, she is screaming and crying about the injustice of it all, demanding that they still fit.
Never mind that the button, you know, the one designed by the manufacturer to snap closed, will only do so if she will commit to not breathing for the next 12 hours while she wears the shorts. Which, of course, she is considering. Anything to prove her old clothes still fit.
Also, she will not be walking in this blood flow restricting denim, because any flex or bend is simply not possible. So she hops around like she’s living her life in a sack race, if the potatoes had been vacuum sealed in those burlap sacks.
And she is CONVINCED that these shorts, that had once been a favorite, and served a great purpose for her, still fit. So much so that she is willing to fight and argue with the ones she loves, endure great pain, and manipulate and modify the rest of her life in order to stick to the old, (once) comfortable clothes.
Hopefully you got a little laugh out of that. At the very least, you probably see how ridiculous this is.
I mean, as mature adults, we would never, ever, hold onto something that was no longer beneficial to us. Even if it felt good, or was once comfortable, right? Once we realized that it was time to move on to something new, or better (for us), or more appropriate for the season, we would move on, without question, right?
Some stuff may still fit, mostly. It may still be really comfortable. And it may still look great on us. But it may just be time to move on.
And if we don’t, we may find ourselves looking like a walking (or hopping) audition for a backup dancer on Madonna’s Farewell Tour. And while that may sound like a lot of fun for some of you, I’m quite certain that is not what any of us need to be doing at this phase in our lives.
I encourage you (and me) to practice letting go of phases and things in our lives when we’ve outgrown them. There’s new favorites to find, and we may miss them if we keep hanging on to those things that we need to let go of.