The outfits that fit like they were made for this exact moment just hang untouched in the closet, while the ones that tug and squeeze get chosen every single time. I laid out the soft tees and pants that move with them without a pinch, hoping the ease would feel like an invitation to play freely, but the drawer with the too-small pieces won again without a word. It leaves me wondering what invisible story those tighter clothes are telling that the right ones can’t match.