We all have at least one pair of pants that haven't fit in years, but we just can't get rid of them. They're those super cute pants that sit in the back of your closet "just in case" they fit again someday.

If you're like me, you may have closer to ten pairs.

Over the years, the only thing that ever got me to part with these type of pants was if there were several sizes in between. My first year of college I started wearing a size eight, but those size six jeans sat in the back of my closet forever.

Then I started buying 10s, and the 6s vanished to make room for the eights. For a while I bought 12s, then went back to tens, which made me wish I hung onto the eights. It's a vicious cycle.

I used to justify holding onto these pants because I viewed them as "motivation" or I thought if I got rid of them I'd be wasting money if I ever lost weight.

It got unhealthy when I refused to buy clothes that fit me.

I wore leggings every day for two years because I associated jeans with being fat, knowing I'd have to size up again to wear them. Wearing leggings allowed me to deny it. I pretended I was being economical because "they'll fit again soon."

Here's the deal, gaining weight in your twenties is normal. Everyone assumes "the freshman 15" is because you get to college and drink all your calories away.

This may be the case for some, but the reality is our bodies are not made to sustain high school habits forever. Unless you were blessed with remarkable metabolism, you're either going to need to completely change your lifestyle (an unrealistic expectation) or learn to part with your skinny girl jeans.

The size twelve American Eagle jeans with the little white stripes sat in my closet untouched for over a year.

I tried them on almost monthly as if they'd magically grew, and then beat myself up when they didn't. As dramatic as this sounds, these jeans haunted me.

The ghost of skinny me lived in my closet and laughed at me.

As I was packing to move back to school for my final year of college, I decided "fuck this." I wish I had a better way to explain this part, because I have no idea what made me take this leap, but if this article is enough to make at least one person do the same, then I've done my job.

That weekend I went shopping. I was pleasantly surprised to see that at some point in the two years I avoided denim, American Eagle had developed a "curvy" fit. The sales lady insisted I try a 12, and I thought of the stupid striped pants at home that never fit.

She was pushy, so I did it anyway. I am not exaggerating when I say that I danced in the dressing room when they fit.

If you know anything about me, you know that I absolutely do not EVER dance, so this is kind of a big deal.

I was so happy that I picked out another pair and a ridiculously overpriced sweater. When I got home, I realized the second pair wasn't the curvy fit, so naturally, I cried.

When I finally worked up the courage to try them on, they fit too.

I guess what I'm trying to say here is that women's clothing sizes are inconsistent absolutely SUCK, and you shouldn't let the ghosts in your closet keep you from shopping. Wear what fits your body and rock it.