Sorry I have been so absent as of late but life has been rather busy! Tonight I would like to talk about how I am finally seeing results! In my last post I spoke of major frustration and while, yes, I am still irritated that none of my clothes are actually falling off me yet; I am happy to admit some small yet slightly embarrassing triumphs!
NOTE: This is another one of those posts where I will admit to and discuss some rather difficult and potentially upsetting topics. The "Don't be an asshole disclaimer" listed in my first post strongly applies. I have received some personal e-mails from people expressing how much they like and relate to my blog so I find it extremely pertinent to discuss such things. Don't ruin the fun for everyone by being a troll. I want this to be a safe haven for people who find this blog relevant. Thank you in advance for your cooperation and understanding.
As a plus size individual there are some things I take into consideration that other's have probably never thought let alone worried about. Such as:
-Will I fit in that chair?
To be honest I have never actually not fit into a seat before. Nor have I ever broken a chair because I was too heavy for it, but these are things I have worried about. Mostly at movie theaters where the arms don't go up and on airplanes, especially on airplanes.
-Eating in public.
This use to be, and sometimes still is, one of my biggest fears. In middle school I rarely ate at lunch amongst my peers. I often did not want to eat inside restaurants or at my friend's houses. I felt as if everyone would be looking at me thinking "Look at that fat girl eat, no wonder she is so fat!" Food was the enemy and from age 13-17 I ate almost always in solitude. Even at home I would take meals in my room if my family would let me. I would pick at my food if I did eat in the presence of others and then when I was alone I would binge. Once I started driving this got even worse. I would go to the store or a fast food place get food, eat it in my car, destroy the evidence, and pretend like it never happened. I hated the idea of someone seeing me stuffing my face so much that even when I was hiding in my car eating if someone pulled up next to me and parked I would stop eating and drive somewhere else to finish my depressing indulgence. I would hide food in my room, my car, my locker at school, and eat it when no one was looking. I felt ashamed every time I did it. I would promise myself I would stop, but I would always find an excuse to do it again. I would convince myself that it was fine because I hadn't eaten all day or because I didn't know when I would be alone long enough to eat again. I would sometimes eat entire boxes of snacks in one sitting simply because I was terrified of being caught stashing junk food. I did not understand why I was so addicted to this behavior. I hated myself for it and would often wish I were addicted to something else; something that at least wouldn't make me fat. Sometimes I seriously wished that I were anorexic or a druggie instead of being a fatty addicted to food. I constantly asked myself why I continued to partake in this behavior when I knew it was just going to make me feel worse. And honestly I still don't know why. I sometimes find myself slipping back into my old ways when I do not feel comfortable. In college there were days when I just could not bring myself to eat in front of class mates, and now I struggle daily when it comes to eating at work in front of 20+ other women who are almost all thinner than I am.
-Can I even shop in this store?
Every time I walk by a store I wonder if I should even bother going in. I see so many beautiful outfits that I know will not fit me. I usually do not even bother falling in love with them because I know they aren't even made in my size. I feel embarrassed going into stores that seem to only carry size 10 and below. I feel like every thin shopper in there will see me picking through racks of clothes and think, "Yeah right, you're not fitting into that." I feel silly holding a garment up to my body trying to see if I can even stretch it enough to equal my body's width. Why do I even bother?
-Getting out of a booth, a car, and up off a couch.
Everyone has seen this, a big girl scooting her way out of a long booth or trying to hoist her fat ass up out of a bucket seat or back seat of a two door car, usually fat ass first, or shove yourself up off an overstuffed couch that seems to have formed to every back fat roll. This shit is embarrassing and there seems to be no graceful way of doing it. I have sat down in a booth at restaurants before and had to move the table away because it was squishing my stomach or had to ride up front in a two door car because I couldn't get into the backseat without making a scene of horrible struggle. And when I did fit into the back I would spend the whole ride trying to figure out the best way to make a somewhat non embarrassing exit.
-Wearing bigger clothes than my boyfriend.
I have always worn a larger clothing size than whoever I was dating. That cute cliche of walking around in your guy's dress shirt or hoody and it fitting you like a kid playing dress up in grown up clothes, well, that has never happened to me. And at times it makes me feel like an ogre; like I can't be girly or cute because I am this giant blob of unlady like proportions.
I am sure the list goes on but you get the idea...
Now for my small but measurable triumphs!
-Like I said, I have never broken a chair or not fit into one but recently I have noticed that I fit better into certain types of chairs. My thighs and hips do not scrape the edges of armed chairs so much. Seems silly, but it's comforting to me.
-Eating in public is something I think I will always struggle with but I need to get more comfortable with the idea at work. Eating more often is essential to my weight loss because it boosts my metabolism. I need to start taking a lunch break at work and actually eating something. I finally did this for the first time last Sunday. Let's see if I can make it a habit.
-I am still shopping in stores that offer extended sizes but now that I have lost a total of 31lbs I can squeeze into some xl and size 16 clothes. I am still, however, waiting to celebrate going down an actually dress size for when I literally cannot fit into my size 18 clothes.
-Today Chad and I went to a restaurant and sat in a long booth. I usually have a hard time getting out of this kind of seating arrangement and have to awkwardly scoot to the end of the booth, stick one leg out and then step sideways out of the booth to avoid hitting my stomach on the table. Today when exiting the booth I was able to stand up, turn, and exit the booth width wise without incident. And this was at a restaurant we have been to many times so I have plenty of moments to compare with. Once again, this may seem silly to some people but it was another little way I could really tell that my body is indeed changing.
-Now none of Chad's clothes just absolutely swallow me but I can at least fit into his shirts. Last week when we went out he suggested I wear one of his t-shirts and it actually ended up fitting me better than it fits him. This was a nice feeling for me. I rarely feel dainty and cute considering I am taller and wider than most people I know, but I definitely felt smaller being able to wear that shirt. And for the record I don't usually even want to feel dainty and girly and shit; I usually go for a more fierce, badass bitch, alpha female attitude but every once in a very, very long while it is nice to feel the slightest bit femmy.
Next time on Half-Assed: Memoirs of a Chubster.
My Life of the Chubby List: Buying a Scale! Dun-Dun-Dunnnah!
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