Radio silence strikes again. Sometimes I get tired of diving in and mucking about in my emotional dreck, of which there is plenty. And every time I deal with something and walk away from it, I end up finding something new to deal with. So instead of blasting it all over the world wide web I let it ferment for awhile so as to let you all enjoy it like the finely aged liquor it is.
(Oh my god, I am SO LAME. But also amusing myself, because I am easily amused.)
Anyway, I'm at this weird point where I don't know how to classify myself. I'm not the fat girl that I used to be, but I'm not the skinny girl the world thinks I should be. I'm skinnier than some of my friends, but fatter than others. I can buy dresses off the rack at Target without even trying them on, and I don't need to buy any of my clothes at Lane Bryant anymore.
But...I'm still pissed off at the way the world treats fat people. I still get irate about lame fat jokes on sitcoms, and I'm still mentally a fat girl. I look at myself in pictures or in the mirror and I see a relatively average sized woman, but when I look directly at my thighs or my stomach I see giant expanses of flesh even as I am constantly surprised by how tiny my wrists and neck are.
So basically, I don't know where I fit. I have no realistic idea of what size I am anymore and it's throwing me off my game.
I'm going to be a matron of honor again this summer, this time for my best friend's wedding. She and I and three of the other bridesmaids went dress shopping a few weeks back, and I was trying on dresses in a size 16. I have not been a size 16 since I was in high school, so it was new territory for me. But the kicker was that when it came time to order the dress, I ordered it in a size 14 since the wedding is not until August. And I had to be convinced by my husband to order the 14 because I was walking around saying that maybe I should just get the 16 since it fits right now and I only lost four pounds last month. He successfully talked me into the dress, an a good thing too. (And for the record, it's this dress and it is surprisingly hot on me.)
The whole thing makes me exhausted because confusion is hard on my brain. I think maybe I need to just let myself be who I am, where I am without analyzing every fucking thought and emotion that crosses my head. Or at least I need to let myself do that more often, because the moments when I forget to think about everything all the time are the very best times.
In other news, we bought a new car for me last week (yay!!) and we are going to Santa Barbara to celebrate our anniversary this weekend (double yay!!) and life is really pretty damn good.
(Oh my god, I am SO LAME. But also amusing myself, because I am easily amused.)
Anyway, I'm at this weird point where I don't know how to classify myself. I'm not the fat girl that I used to be, but I'm not the skinny girl the world thinks I should be. I'm skinnier than some of my friends, but fatter than others. I can buy dresses off the rack at Target without even trying them on, and I don't need to buy any of my clothes at Lane Bryant anymore.
But...I'm still pissed off at the way the world treats fat people. I still get irate about lame fat jokes on sitcoms, and I'm still mentally a fat girl. I look at myself in pictures or in the mirror and I see a relatively average sized woman, but when I look directly at my thighs or my stomach I see giant expanses of flesh even as I am constantly surprised by how tiny my wrists and neck are.
So basically, I don't know where I fit. I have no realistic idea of what size I am anymore and it's throwing me off my game.
I'm going to be a matron of honor again this summer, this time for my best friend's wedding. She and I and three of the other bridesmaids went dress shopping a few weeks back, and I was trying on dresses in a size 16. I have not been a size 16 since I was in high school, so it was new territory for me. But the kicker was that when it came time to order the dress, I ordered it in a size 14 since the wedding is not until August. And I had to be convinced by my husband to order the 14 because I was walking around saying that maybe I should just get the 16 since it fits right now and I only lost four pounds last month. He successfully talked me into the dress, an a good thing too. (And for the record, it's this dress and it is surprisingly hot on me.)
The whole thing makes me exhausted because confusion is hard on my brain. I think maybe I need to just let myself be who I am, where I am without analyzing every fucking thought and emotion that crosses my head. Or at least I need to let myself do that more often, because the moments when I forget to think about everything all the time are the very best times.
In other news, we bought a new car for me last week (yay!!) and we are going to Santa Barbara to celebrate our anniversary this weekend (double yay!!) and life is really pretty damn good.
5 Comments:
I'm glad Hubby talked some sense into you! I bet that dress very flattering on! My goodness how bride's maids dresses have changed!
Happy anniversary and good luck with the new car. I'd love to be heading to Santa Barbara too!
Happy Anniversary!! Have fun in SB!
Cute dress! I know I've been away for a while, but I'm lurking around. Hope all is well with you ((hugs))
Happy Anniversary, you crazy kids! (And I am not at all surprised that the dress looks hot on you.)
I am having a hard time reconciling the word "matron" with that delicious, lovely dress. Take lots of pictures!
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