When I poked my feet through the leg holes, I wasn’t optimistic. Pants never fit me. They just don’t.
Normally it’s when I go to pull the waistband up over my bum that things come unstuck. Or more accurately, stuck. But this time, they didn’t.
The soft but sturdy material slid over my thighs. It didn’t squeeze me. The seams didn’t buckle. Nothing.
It wasn’t until I was fully buttoned up and zipped in that I built up the courage to look at myself in the mirror.
