I have one sister. She is two years younger than me, she is tall, thin, blond-haired, blue-eyed, and yep, I'm jealous. Over the past couple of years, she had put on some weight and was up to a size 12 (Heaven forbid!) As I mentioned in a previous post, she recently got married on the beach, so for months she was dieting and losing weight. However, she never did exercise, and she didn't really change how she ate; just smaller portions. The weight literally just FELL off of her. Right before her wedding, she was diagnosed with a serious thyroid disorder that was causing her weight loss. And you know what? I was jealous of that too. If not well controlled, this disease she has can be life threatening, and yet, I still have moments when I wish I had it! Seriously, take a pill every day to control your thyroid? Big whoop if it means I can be skinny again without the pain of actually working at it! I know, I know, I'm already sick.
My sister is the only skinny one in our family. My mom is fat because she's lazy and she still has emotional issues from having an abusive father. My dad is fat because he snacks obsessively in order to cope with my mom's nagging and whining. My sister is also the only one with blond hair and blue eyes. Sometimes I wonder if she was adopted, and I think sometimes she wishes she were.
So, anyhow, she lost all this weight for the wedding (because she has a disease) and now she's bound and determined not to gain it back. She sacked up an entire huge garbage bag FULL of size 12 clothes and gave them to me. They are REALLY nice clothes----something I don't have. I don't EVER shop for myself. About once or twice a year I may notice that a majority of my shirts have stains or holes, so I will grab a couple new ones off the $5 clearance rack at Walmart. That is how I shop for clothes, and I'm not exaggerating. So, I was excited to see all those beautiful clothes she gave me. But in order to wear them, I have to lose about 6 sizes. I think she thought she was doing me a favor, and I appreciate the thought, but really, I kind of just want to slap her. Like, I have to lose SIX sizes in order to fit into my little sister's FAT CLOTHES. What the hell does that make MY clothes?! Super Fatty McFat Clothes, apparently.
Last night, my sister watched my four kids so the hubs and I could go out to dinner and a movie for the first time in 2 years. I was excited, and of course wanted to dress up and look nice. The first several shirts I put on literally ripped at the seems as I tried to pull them over my head. The next one I actually got on, and then got stuck inside because the sleeves were so tight around my ginormous arms. I admit it, I had a mini-panic attack as I envisioned having to literally cut myself out of that damn shirt. I finally found one that was comfortable. When I stepped in front of the mirror I wanted to cry. I look pregnant. That's how much my gut sticks out. My youngest baby is almost 18 months old, and I still look about 7 months pregnant. It's really hard to feel sexy when you know you look like a marshmallow. We had a fun evening, but the whole time I was pulling at my shirt and silently worrying about whether or not my fat rolls were showing through it. Literally the FIRST time out alone with my husband in TWO years and I couldn't really enjoy it because I was so self-conscious. See, when you have ABSOLUTELY NO social life, it's REALLY easy to believe that your weight isn't affecting your self-esteem, or your interactions with people around you. But then, when all of a sudden you find yourself in a social situation----even with someone as familiar as your husband----all those insecurities come rushing at you, and it's pretty undeniable in that moment that the weight is a problem.
The weight is a problem. Well, I guess admitting the problem is the first step to fixing it.....
No comments:
Post a Comment