50 pounds. That sounds like a lot, doesn’t it? And I suppose it is a lot. But here’s the thing: I still have a long way to go. I am probably another 40-50 pounds away from what would be considered “skinny”.
Allow me to repeat myself: I am not a skinny-minnie. I am, at best, a not-so-fatty-patty.
It is important that you understand this point. Otherwise, you will have little sympathy for me, or for my tale of accidental public nudity.
The weight that I’ve lost has come off fairly steadily…but not dramatically. And like most Americans, I am best satiated by instant gratification. Compound with that all of the “lose weight quick” scams that are advertized, and it’s easy to understand why women feel like failures if they can’t drop five dress-sizes in two months.
So even though I have been successfully losing weight, it is often quite difficult to see just how far I’ve come. So difficult, in fact, that I waved off any suggestion that I may need to buy new clothes that fit me better. Almost daily, I would hear something like, “Those pants look like they’re going to fall right off of you! You’d better go shopping soon!”
And my response was usually, “Thanks, but I have a long way to go before I’ll need to downsize!” Most of the time, I attributed these comments to the kindness of my co-workers who knew how hard I was working to lose weight.
When Christmas came, my dear neighbor Melissa gave me a lovely, slinky little black skirt with this disclaimer: “This will probably be way too big. I’ll be happy to alter it for you.”
One glance at the tag made me turn my head away from her so she couldn’t see my dismay. It was an extra-large. Was she kidding? An extra-large, purchased not from a plus-size store, where I had been shopping since the age of 20, but from the girls’ department at Target. When I was able to look at Melissa again I smiled and thanked her, knowing I would be lucky to fit into this skirt by NEXT Christmas.
January came, and one evening as I was searching my closet for something to wear the next day, I spotted the skirt. I sighed and pulled it off the hanger. I decided to try it on, just to see if it would be worth trying to get it altered to a larger size. Amazingly, it fit! I was so elated that I decided to wear it to work the next day.
The next morning I twirled around the bedroom, showing off my new skirt and the bod inside it to Jimmy.
“That skirt is too big,” he said, squinting in the early morning darkness of our bedroom. “You should have Melissa alter it.”
“IT’S AN EXTRA-LARGE,” I said emphatically, knowing that should be explanation enough for anyone with eyes. I was not too small for an extra-large.
I left the house despite Jimmy’s protests. I even wondered how it was possible that this extremely intelligent man could have been married to me for over six years and still understand so little about women’s sizes.
I arrived downtown and parked in my lot, several blocks away from my building. After I paid my daily fee, I began my hike into work. I had only walked about one block when it happened.
My skirt fell off.
My extra-large skirt fell off of my surprisingly NOT extra-large butt.
When I look back on that day, there are many things for which I am thankful. I’m thankful that this happened in winter, because my heavy jacket covered most of my backside. I’m thankful that I wasn’t wearing my glasses, so if there were people pointing and laughing at me, I was mercifully unaware of them.
Mostly I am thankful that I was put in a situation–albeit an embarrassing one–which forced me to come to terms with my accomplishments. Just because I have not reached my goal yet, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be proud. I’ve been overweight since I was seven years old. So being able to lose any amount of weight over any period of time deserves, every once in awhile, to be treated like a big deal.
In fact, I think it deserves to be treated like an extra-large deal.
YAY! I love this story. You know what is extra wonderful about this story is that it can apply to our spiritual growth as well. I am certainly no St. Paul, but I’m making small strides towards sanctification. At least I hope, so. I wish we had spiritual skirts that would fall off to remind us that we’re moving in the right direction. Thanks for this. And you go girl!!!!!
Interesting blog, I’ll try and spread the word.