At any given time I have at least three sizes of jeans in my closet.
There are the ones that currently fit me, the ones I wish still fit me and then there are the "fat" jeans. Now, before you go sending me hate mail for calling them fat jeans, let me explain. The fat jeans don't have to be a certain size. If you are a size 2, your size 4’s might be your fat jeans. Maybe you started at size 12 and 14s are your body image brink.
Every woman reading this knows exactly what I mean. We all have "fat" days. I’m talking about those days we feel bloated. Maybe we over-indulged on a week of vacation or overdid it on pasta at dinner.
Lately though, I’ve been reaching for my fat jeans more than any other. I’ve been in denial about it for months. I stand in my closet every time I have some place to go and complain I have nothing to wear. I change outfits at least twice trying to find something I feel good in. Nothing.
If I was honest about it, I’d reach for the fat jeans right away and save myself the time and frustration.
It’s time to admit I need to lose some weight or the fat jeans are going to be my new current size. Just thinking about it sends my head spinning, and I start spouting promises to myself. I immediately pledge to start eating better and scour Pinterest looking for new recipes to plan my meals for the week.
Then life happens, as it always does. It’s not an excuse, but I make it one. My ex-husband stresses me out. I meet friends for dinner. I work late.
The problem is that my resistance to buying anything new until I lose the weight I want is keeping me from enjoying the "now" of my life. And it’s a good life regardless of what I weigh! I feel like crap every time I have to get dressed. Who needs that? Life is tough enough without my hater closet taunting me every day. I’m tired of not feeling cute when I meet with friends. And it’s not because of my new size, it’s because my clothes look like they’ve been at the back of my closet too long. (Oh, wait, they have been at the back of my closet too long.)
The inside of me might not match the outside entirely at the moment, but I still have a full life to show up for.
Sure, I’d like to lose the weight I’ve put on in the last year going through a divorce and starting my own business, but it’s not like I avoid doing things (well, except for putting on a swimsuit). I tried to wear shorts over top of my suit when I went to visit my sister in Florida, and she was having none of it. She started yelling “What the hell are those?” and told me I “look 80.” In her defense, the shorts weren’t even cute. I dug them out from the bottom of a drawer.
See? That’s my point. It’s not working for me.
I am a big believer that what’s inside is more important than what’s outside. I also believe that doing something half-assed doesn’t cut it. So I need to stop showing up that way. The people I spend time with deserve the best of me, not a watered down version who hopes to blend into the background.
So I’ve made a revolutionary decision. I’m going to buy the damn "fat" jeans.
Yep, I’m going to spend the money on clothes I wish I didn’t fit into. Not a fortune, but enough so I quit complaining I don’t have anything to wear.
It’s not giving up. I have plenty of living things to motivate me to reach my goal. I am absolutely going to lose the weight, but I didn’t gain the weight overnight, and I can’t lose it that way.
So, until I do, I can at least look as good as I can. I am still the funny, smart, charming gal I have always been. The inside of me might not match the outside entirely at the moment, but I still have a full life to show up for. Really, there’s no reason I should look like hell.