My hair sticks straight up with static as I take off yet another dress. Nothing fits. The lump in my throat gets bigger as each one is worse than the last. Standing in the fitting room in my bra and underwear I look at my middle and don't recognize this body. I've had a good run. For the last 15 years or so I've been mostly thin. (In my teens and early twenties my weight went up and down due to emotional eating). Now I've gained 10 pounds almost overnight; the result of an out-of-whack thyroid. Ten pounds when you're 5'2" is a lot.
I've been diligent about exercise but refuse to starve myself.
Coming home from shopping I look at HT and burst into tears.
"I don't know how to dress for this body!" I tell him.
He hugs me.
"I'm too young to have a post menopausal figure!" I cry.
He says, "You are beautiful."
I shrug him off.
I've been vacillating between wanting to be thin and wanting instead to love myself even if I'm not. I'm embarrassed by how much this self-image thing is affecting me. I thought I had it licked. Now I see I only had it licked, because I was where I wanted to be! Why do I see so many women, bigger than me, as absolutely gorgeous, but hold myself to some "skinnier" standard? It's sick.
"I wish Queen Latifah would come here and help me figure out how to dress like a big beautiful woman!"
Todd smiles and says, "Queen Latifah would laugh you out of the room and tell you her thigh is bigger than the likes of you."
Sometimes the guy knows just what to say.
*photo from allmoviephoto.com