Sometimes, My RLS Doesn’t Let Me Wear Pants

Sometimes, my restless legs syndrome (RLS) doesn't let me wear pants. Let me explain, because of course, that sounds silly.

Sometimes, my RLS gets worse with certain pants. Jeans absolutely enrage them, but also activewear. I have these yoga pants I love. I love them so much. They're from Costco. They're under 20 dollars. They have phone-sized pockets! They're high-waisted. They're perfection. I have them in every color except camo.

Except my restless legs really, really hate them

It's like my restless legs are telling me that if I'm not exercising, I'd better not be wearing exercise attire. Sometimes I like to wear "aspirational" workout clothes. I take the dog on a walk around the block. I play on the playground with my kids. I'm not sweating to the 90s, but I'm "active" in my activewear.

Sometimes I'm quite sedentary in my activewear, too. Sometimes I have a phone meeting or am writing from home. Sometimes it's the end of the day and I'm lying on the couch, watching TV for a few hours. My RLS does not like this one bit. They practically scream at me to wiggle. They beg me to take off my pants. They're not being flirty or shaming me to exercise...they hate my pants is all.

If I put on clean yoga pants, they're okay for a minute or 2. The coldness of a fresh pair of yoga pants satiates them. If I put on loose, flowy pants or even hard pants, they're okay for a bit longer. The change of function quiets my legs down a bit.

My legs want sweet freedom

My RLS does not care that my front windows are wide open. My restless legs do not care that I have company over. My restless legs want skin touching air, not a cotton-poly blend.

When I free the legs, my legs are still. They breathe in the fresh, circulated air of my living room. They luxuriate, letting the breeze of the heater slowly waft through my unshaven leg hair. If I'm wearing a dress, great, but the legs don't care if I'm Donald Ducking it or not. They are body positive.

The best thing to do is to let my restless legs be the arbiter of pants in this relationship. My legs do not care that the laundry is already untenable as is. My legs want yoga pants to be reserved for exercise time only. Heaven forbid I try to fly cross country in yoga pants. No, no, no, my legs say, this will not do. Loose pants only. Dresses. Jumpsuits even.

My relationship with my legs is complicated

I'm a pale lady, and I am a victim of diet culture like every other human I know. I am uncomfortable bearing skin, especially upper thigh skin. My legs are more progressive than I am.

Perhaps, if I listen to the rustling of my legs, I can find a body freedom my upbringing and culture did not let me have. My restless legs might be onto something.