Recently, I have found myself unable to put together an outfit without a flannel. It’s become extremely rare to see me without that trademark piece of clothing. 

I am not sure why this is the case. Practically every morning, I spend time trying to figure out what to wear. I try on outfits that I used to wear and become disgusted at them: why would I ever wear that? But no matter how many outfits I try, I always end up in a flannel.

If I would have been asked a year ago if I could find myself wearing a flannel every day, I would have laughed and said no. At the time I didn’t even own one.

Even six months ago, I would have never pictured myself unable to discard my flannel.

My style now is entirely different from six months ago. Back then, leggings, skinny jeans, t-shirts, sweatshirts, and the occasional sweater filled my closet. Now, I despise skinny jeans, most of my old t-shirts and sweatshirts remain neglected, and I don’t wear leggings nearly as much as I used to.

I try on my old sweaters, and upon looking in the mirror, I immediately take them off. They’re nice sweaters, sure, but they remind me too much of who I was. 

I hate remembering the personality and all the mannerisms I used to have. I don’t like how I used to be, but I know it helped me change. I don’t think I’ll ever truly hate who I was at one point in time as much as how I acted.

The clothes remind me of my past actions. They remind me of who I’ve grown away from.

These feelings seem like nostalgia, but nostalgia is supposed to be happy and remind me of simpler times. Maybe those times were simpler, but the memories definitely don’t make me happy. 

Joyful memories are now found in my rotation of flannels. I have become proud of the person I am now—the person that wears flannels. My comfort is found in a piece of thick plaid fabric.

I know that eventually, things may change, and the flannels will be retired to the back of my closet. This time may be impending due to the change in seasons, but who’s to say, considering Michigan’s unpredictable weather.

But I hope that when the weather becomes cold once more, I’ll find my flannel back over my shoulders.

Even though change is inevitable, I’m going to live in my flannel until that change comes knocking.