The Evolution of Weight

Earlier today i went to Target. I needed to pick up my insulin as well as a few other things. While i was there i started looking at jeans...at Brooks' request. The pair I've been wearing for the last 2 years, and the only pair that still fit over the last year, are starting to fall apart. Literally. I have 4 places where you can see holes beginning to appear and one actual hole. Brooks told me earlier to go get a pair to hold me over until we can go get a decent pair for me. So i took a deep breath and off i went. I knew going in, it wouldn't be an enjoyable experience. It's Target denim after all, and i don't typically ever, EVER buy cheap denim. No jeans from the Gap, Levi's, Target, Walmart (oh dear lord!! The humanity!!) or any other denim from relatively cheaper stores. This is for a reason! A very good reason!! It's called the junk in my trunk!

Yes, i have a booty. And I've come to be ok with that. Back when i lived in Oregon, my derriere was never appreciated. It was always scoffed at and i was often told i needed to lose weight and get down to a "normal" size jean. Even when i was 130 pounds and a fairly skinny size 4. Seriously. Once i moved here i discovered a magical land where men actually liked a woman who had a larger posterior...it was called, The South!

I started in the women's section. The choices for decent fitting denim was measly. I found a couple pair that weren't "skinny" jeans and headed to the men's department. I typically don't ever buy mens jeans either. Again...due to my booty. Mens jeans just aren't built for a my round bottom to go into them. But i grabbed a couple pair there anyway and headed for the fitting rooms.

The first pair i tried on were a women's pair of "straight" jeans. If they were actually cut straight, the person who cut them is BLIND!! NO!! Not even a little bit were these a straight fit! They weren't as uncomfortable as skinny jeans, but perhaps they were a relaxed skinny jean.

Let's pause here...wear what you like, but honestly I'll be SO glad when the skinny jean/pant phenomenon is OVER!! I just want to go into a store and buy normal fitting pants!!! I don't have the legs or the shape to wear skinny pants and I'm too claustrophobic for them! I panic putting them on! Like if the jeans suddenly burst into flames, i wouldn't be able to get them off and I'd die! I can't do it! And i don't believe that they are for "everyone". That's a load of bull. I've tried them on numerous times...back when i was thinner, and they looked TERRIBLE!! Just no!!

On to the next pair...a pair of mens jeans. No. They were too tight. That right there made me want to cry big massive crocodile tears!! I've gained about 20 pounds (maybe 25 depending on the day) over the last year. Well...i gained it in about a months time, but sadly i still have it. So while i know this, it's obvious, i didn't take into account how many sizes I've gone up! FOUR!! FOUR SIZES!!! The only thing that kept me from bursting into hysteria right there in the dressing room was denial. I kept thinking that the sizes are just "off". You know that thing that designers do...they run stuff on the "small" side? Yea...i told myself that.

I got dressed and went back to the mens section to find a different size. I found one that fit better. I like my jeans long (34") so they fall over my shoes. I can't stand sitting down in pants and because of my short 30" inseam my pant leg rides up over my ankle and then my ankles are cold and I feel that everyone is starring because i forgot to shave that day. I guess the plus side is that i did find a pair that fit...alright...and they are long enough not to ride up when i sit down.

I pouted as i walked around gathering the rest of my items. Occasionally looking at the jeans that were now nestled in my cart between the loaf of gluten free bread and the jar of peanut butter, arguing with myself in my head about actually purchasing them. It went something like this:

Me: Don't buy those J! They don't fit very well. The waist is big and gappy!!
Me 2: Well of course they are! They're guys jeans! But what am i supposed to do? Walk around without pants on? No one wants to see that!!
Me: Ross is right next door. Maybe you can find something there!
Me 2: I don't feel like digging for one freakin pair of jeans that might fit! Nor do i feel like dealing with their fitting rooms!! I just want to go home!!
Me: So what are you gonna do? Wear a belt all the time, and hope they shrink a bit in the waist?
Me 2: I guess so. Plus these are cheap. It's only to last for a little while until we can get to the Buckle where the wonderful fitting jeans are.
Me: Yea, but when is that going to be? 
Me 2: I don't know! I've got to do something though! I'm down to just sweats and i won't wear sweats outside of the house!! Omg, i may burst into tears!!
Me: No. I won't allow you to do that. Ok...you're right. Just get them. You sure as hell can't wear sweat pants out of the house!!

So i bought the stupid jeans. And now I'm home, back in my sweats. And the jeans are still sitting in the Target bag on the kitchen counter. 

I thought about my weight all the way home. I've allowed myself to get like this. It's no one else's fault. It's not like i had someone force feeding me junk food for the last year. But I'm pissed. I'm pissed at myself that i let myself get to this point! I'm at my heaviest. And while i now am gluten intolerant and am hopeful that will help eventually, it's not yet and it's frustrating. I'm trying to see where any extra calories are coming from. What it is that I'm eating that i need to stop. I have a couple of ideas...and as a friend of mine told me the other day, "waistlines are made in the kitchen".

I thought about my mom. She's lost quite a bit of weight in the last few years. She weighs about 35 pounds less than i do now. Which is awesome! When i was about 3 or 4, she let herself go. Her words. She said that she just got tired of dating and men and feeling like she had to put herself out there. Which is ridiculous reasoning, but that's what she says. She also says that she wishes "someone" told her she was getting fat! Yea, like that would have gone over well!! I'm not sure what she got up to, but i know where she's at now. And she looks a lot better. It got me to thinking about how i sort of let myself go last year. I suffered a miscarriage. A baby that Brooks and i really, really wanted and were over the moon excited about. I was 7 1/2 weeks. We were devastated!! The one year marker just passed by last weekend. After the loss i was so depressed that i couldn't get off the couch. I ate my depression with Ben & Jerry...who became two very close friends for a couple weeks. About 3 weeks later i saw that i had gained almost 20 pounds, but i was still too sad to care. As time went on, i dealt with the pain and sadness, but my pant size never dwindled back down to where i was before finding out we were expecting...which was still a bit higher then when i moved here 5 1/2 years ago. Back then i was riding my bike all over Eugene and i looked GOOD!! I miss those days for the shear pleasure of riding all day without having to go into traffic!! The Triad isn't exactly what i would call a "bike friendly" area.

I now carry those extra 20 pounds...plus another 3-5 depending on the day. It's gotten to the point where most of my clothes don't fit very well anymore. I have 4 perfectly nice pair of well fitting jeans in a drawer that no longer fit, as well as about 3 dozen shirts. All too small.

We did start working out this week. We're on day #4 tonight. We missed Wednesday because of gym issues that have since been resolved. It wasn't on our part, so it was totally out of our control. I'm trying not to become bitter or depressed about my weight. I've always been able to hide it pretty well. While i am not about to put the number in my blog, as my doctors are the ONLY people who actually know the real number, I guess I'm too ashamed of telling anyone else. A few years ago i did actually tell a gal pal of mine. We were talking about how we'd both gained a few pounds (i think i had gained about 5 or 6 that were being stubborn) and she asked what i weighed. For the first time in decades, i shared my weight with someone other than a medical professional. She said, "NO WAY!! My god WHERE?!" Back then, mostly in my trunk. But it's now creeping elsewhere. And that's the issue.

I was watching Rachel Ray's show the other day, as i do every morning while i have my coffee. She had one of the authors of Skinny Bitch on as a guest. If you've never read it, do it! It's a great book. Very good info and funny. Anyway, the author has gained some weight after having her kids and as someone who is an author of what is essentially a "diet" book, they talked about why it was an issue. At one point the woman said that she's happy being plus size, and that's all that should matter in life! Not your weight or what size dress you wear. If you're happy with yourself, who cares what other people think. Solid advice really. Rachel agreed and said, "Yea, I think it's really vain to worry so much about being thin". Vain. Am i really being vain about my weight? Maybe. But i certainly don't feel comfortable in my own skin like this, and for me, that's the point!

I sometimes wonder how much the media's affect has on me when it comes to weight and my own self esteem. I'm no longer a size 4. Far from it. And i have never looked like a model. I've never felt really, really great about myself, or had the ability to look in the mirror and not see everything that's wrong with me. And I've let others' harsh comments about my weight, shape, looks, and beauty have way too much of a voice in my head. My own voice sadly repeats what's been said. Remember in Pretty Woman when Vivian told Edward, "People put you down enough, you start to believe it". He responds, "I think you are a very bright, very special woman". Looking up at him, she says, "The bad stuff is easier to believe. You ever notice that?"...


One day at a time. I know it'll happen eventually. Lord knows when i was in college the first time i took enough fitness classes to damn near hold a degree. So i do know what I'm doing, and what i need to be doing. And i know it's not an overnight process. Wouldn't it be nice if it was!! I forge ahead, one foot on the treadmill, in front of the other, while attempting to correct the judgmental voice i hear in my head.