The other day at church I sat by a woman who has known me
for years. She told me I looked great. I thanked her, of course; but then she
went on to ask me if I had surgery to get rid of “extra skin.” No, I told her,
I’m just exercising and eating differently. I still have extra skin – those batwings
just don’t go away by magic. Like Anne Lamott wrote, as we grow older
everything sags and the wattles grow longer. There’s no getting around that without surgery. Well, after this
short conversation with the woman in the front row, we worshipped together, and
went our separate ways.
You could say that Sunday mornings are my “cheat” day. So, as
I sat outside with a cup of iced mocha, a small slice of chocolate cherry cake
and a plate of fruit, the woman approached me to explain why she asked me about
surgery. She proceeded to tell me that once, a few years back, I was wearing a “see-through”
skirt, and she could see what she called an “apron” of skin beneath. She
wondered why I would wear such a thing, she said, going on to tell me that I
used to wear such “outlandish” clothing, but now I looked sharp.
Of course, I was embarrassed to hear this. I could feel my
face reddening.
I would never purposefully wear a see-through skirt at any
time. I knew she had to be talking about one of my “hippie” skirts; that is,
one of those long, flowing skirts that have what we once called the “Gypsy”
look, before that was revealed to be an inappropriate term. I still wear “hippie”
skirts. I love them. Most of the time, I receive compliments when I wear them,
so I’m fairly certain I don’t look “outlandish” to most people.
I kept a straight face and a thankful demeanor while I was
talking with this woman, and I let her know that I would never have worn the
skirt without a slip if I had realized it was see–through. Inside, though…inside
the little meanie in me wanted to scream, well why didn’t you tell me instead
of just judging me? Wouldn’t that have been the nice thing to do?
I really hadn’t the heart to tell her that I still dress
pretty much the same; it’s just that the clothing looks more aesthetically
pleasing now that I’ve lost almost 50 pounds. I dress in all sorts of styles. I
have days when I want to wear a comfortable, loose “hippie skirt.” I have days
when I choose a business suit, jacket and all. Other days, I wear leggings with
a dress or a long tunic and my combat boots. Some days, I just wear jeans and a
T-shirt. I was the same during the time this woman was referring to. It’s just
that back then, I had absolutely no idea how to make my clothes hang right or
look sleek. I still don’t. I’m not sleek now.
Lest any of my readers think I’m fat shaming when I say my
clothes just plain didn’t look as good when I was fatter than I am now, let me
assure you that I am not. Some people are fat, and claim it as part of who they
are. Like Jenny Trout. I love Jenny Trout, and I think that’s great! I never did. I tried. I really did, but I knew
I wasn’t myself when I was over 200 pounds, out of shape, and in constant pain.
Oh, sure, I had the media-induced self-esteem problems.
Still do, though that’s getting better as I grow older. This was more. I knew,
deep down inside, that I had to lose the weight. My cholesterol was up. My
blood pressure and my glucose were up. My energy was down. I couldn’t always
stand up straight when I walked, and my hip and back issues caused me to limp,
sometimes forcing me to use a cane. I had to do something.
So I did. Finally.
Some people would say that I am still fat. After all, I still have at least 20 pounds to
lose before I reach my weight goal. I look better in a suit now; but I am
imagining myself looking great in a Jackie O style skirt with tiny
heels and a little pill box hat perched on my head.
Or maybe just a pretty “hippie skirt” made in India and a
cotton poet blouse with puffy sleeves and lace that reaches to the tips of my
fingers.
I’ll probably still look outlandish to the woman in the
front row, but I’ll look fabulous to me, and that’s really what matters, isn’t
it?
Come back to check out my smoothie – and other – recipes, as
well as more thoughts on weight loss, self image, and reflections on the
process of revealing my true self – to myself.
Pax
