I may have to turn in my chick card for this, but unless it’s for working out or lingerie, I really dislike shopping for clothes. “Maybe she only likes shopping for activities for which she displays her mind-blowing physical prowess,” you think to yourself. Alas, this is not the case.
1. Going to the rack for something that may catch my eye
2. If I find it, praying that it’s in my size
3. Figuring out what the hell my size may be in a particular clothing line
4. Undressing and seeing all my imperfections in that bloody mirror
5. Inevitably getting it wrong and having to put on my original clothes and try again
6. Seeking someone other than the sales chick for an opinion because she’s just trying to make a living
The list continues. However, none of those is the principal reason that I have been incredibly uncomfortable at the mall in recent months. As I’ve lost weight, I’ve been forced to purchase new clothes a few times. I am happy that I’m healthy, but I am not immune from the idiotic size foolishness. “Smaller is better than bigger.” Is it really? Is an 8 inherently better than a 12? Yeah, smaller Joan is better off than bigger Joan because she’s healthier. Yet I still am panicked when I choose an article of clothing, to the point where I’ll choose something that I think may be too big so I can be relieved instead of disappointed. Unless stores start charging less money because you are paying for less material, ladies, we need to cut this size obsession business out.
But, here I am. The healthiest I have ever been in my adult life. And I’m freaking terrified. Students, parents, friends, family – I keep getting encouraged and praised for my progress and it’s very difficult for me not to view that as pressure. Especially when people ask me for guidance as though I’m someone to look up to. Dammit, this ain’t work, this is life!
It is completely surreal to me that I am doing fit people things. I have become
one of those weirdos who feels like a
slacker when I get in only one workout a day. I once ate poorly fairly regularly – now, when I do I look forward to eating better and thus feeling better. When I happen to be indulging with others, it is often remarked that it is no problem for me because I’m “going to run a billion miles in the morning.” I hear that and I think, “this is not good fuel for that billion mile run but I want it anyway!” A reply like that generally would cause eyes to glaze over, so I leave it alone. I am – so not used to being this person. This life is so wonderful and liberating but it feels like a fairy tale. We are often told that all good things must come to an end and I can’t help but wonder when my carriage is going to turn back into a pumpkin. No mind that as soon as I typed “pumpkin,” I thought that I should work pumpkin seeds into my regular diet. This feels way too good to be true.
The fitting room is a much too tangible reminder of all I have gained and am at risk of losing. But what can I do? Maybe a move to a nudist colony is in order.