Most days, I feel pretty ok. When I work out, I feel better. Adrenalin is amazing stuff!
This week, however, has not been one the best weeks I have had. When I should be celebrating an amazing opportunity, instead, I am finding myself exhausted, deflated, and sad.
I have an upcoming Gala to play this weekend. I have been searching for something to wear that will both allow me to play guitar and sing, and looks edgy and Gala-worthy. For a big girl, this is never ever ever easy. It's a challenge to find anything that flatters my good curves, minimizes the bad curves, and makes me feel young and beautiful.
I went to store after store last night, looking for the perfect outfit. One store after another, I hit a wall. I found a store with beautiful "plus sized" things. But, honestly, these were smaller plus sizes. I'm not that small. Each store brought more negative feelings and tapes: What you are doing isn't good enough, you will never be able to look like a normal girl, you will have to wear the granny clothes again, you are a blob, you ARE the elephant in the room. *If it is harsh, I said it to myself.
Today- the icing on the crap-cake was when I went in to a store to be fitted for a bra, at the behest of my long time friend, who has known me from size 7 to size (unintelligible noise here). I was fearful going in, that they wouldn't have a size to fit me (around). As the lady walked me into the gorgeous fitting room, she pulled out that bitchy tape measure. I looked at her and said-- I don't really think you will fit me -- but let's hope. This sweet shoppe girl slides the tape measure around my chest, looks down at the tape measure-- her eyes get bigger as her face slowly looks up at me in horror. "I'm so sorry." That's all she could say.
I kept it together, though it had been a long couple of days, and said in the most cheerful voice that I could plaster on "that's ok, I thought that would be the case." I rushed out of the dressing room to find my friend. She was looking at beautiful night time attire. I quickly said,"ok, I am going to go work out."
"What happened?" she asked.
"They can't fit me" I said quickly, "I'm going to go get my workout finished" I said, as I could feel the tears creeping up on me. Oh holy hell... here they come.
"Don't you cry, don't cry or I'll slap you." my friend says.
No amount of threats or jokes could keep the flood waters back. This was the hoover dam about to break on my face! I tried to hide my tears, as my friend tried to console me. Nothing was going to work, I had to get the heck out of that store.
Rushing past the slinky fabrics and stylish mannequins with their skinny little asses, I hit the door and made it quickly to my car.
On the drive to go workout, which was just across the street, I gave in to the storm of tears and sadness. All my hard work, all the healthy eating, all the missed cake opportunities, and I was still sitting here, in my crappy little car, wanting to be as elegant as the girls that shop in that store. I wanted more than anything to have a moment that made me feel like one of "those" girls. That moment was not today.
As I tried to wipe away my tears and tell myself this was ridiculous, I walked into Curves, determined to keep going and be strong. On the first little march session, I just burst into to tears and ran to the restroom. I was BEYOND embarrassed.
I patted my face with water, cleaned up, and walked back out to try it again, though I wanted more than anything to run out of that building without being noticed.
As I started marching, one of the trainers came up to ask me if I was ok, and I told her what had happened. One of my favorite fellow-Curves member looks at me and said something to the effect of "who cares, you are still pretty!" That made me smile a bit.
I got through most of the rest of my workout without too much drama.
Today was hard. I can do hard things. I got through the day so far!
Though I had to battle with this world build for skinny people, I still triumphed. No cookies, no tacos, just a workout and lunch.
I can't wait for the day when I walk in that boutique all Pretty Woman-Julia Roberts style with my slutty clothes on-- ok, maybe nix the slutty clothes, and say-- "I was in here last year, and you were horrified at my awesomeness. Well look at me now skinny bitches! I hope you work on commission: BIG MISTAKE, HUUUUUGE. " And then I will walk out, with Roxette's "Musta been love playing on my iPod loudly.
These are the amazing women that work out at the same time I do. They are sweet, funny, and always entertaining. I'm blessed to have found a place where there are people who make me feel comfortable and always encourage me. *And who usually lap me*