Sexy

Couple things.

Yesterday, I got on the scale. 245 pounds.

God. Dam itt.

So, I got thinking about it. And I thought, well, long ago, I had a set a personal goal for myself of getting up to 250 pounds. That way, it felt to me, I could live in 125 pounds and emotionally bury 125 pounds, leaving my dead twin spirit at a viable, healthy non-existent weight. I don't know why that feels so right to me. But it feels right. Yes, I've considered therapy. I've more than considered it - I've done hypno-therapy, psycho-therapy, postive psychology therapy ... believe me, if there's a therapy out there, I've done it. However, this little weight gaining experiment seems to be opening up more stuff and hastening things along more than any therapy I've done.

Yesterday at work, a couple of my male co-workers started chatting with me about how we're all coming on this 8 Pounds in 8 Weeks program, for which I am the Captain of at work. One said he's lost half a pound; the other said he's been excercising, but just can't seem to get a pound off his body. In my head, I'm thinking to myself, It's because you aren't really ready to take the weight off yet. I didn't say that though. I'm trying to learn to let people discover their own lives instead of me "gracing" them with my knowledge of what they should or should not be doing. ;)

Anyway, I mentioned how I've gained weight since we started it. I said, that's typical me, even if I'm the one acting as my own authority, I buck it. That struck me hard when I said it - I do buck it. Any goal I set, I immediately seek to destroy it. It got me thinking about my goal to get to 250 pounds. And how far did I get? 243. J u s t s h y of the goal. No quite, but close enough. Just like my life. Not quite. And close enough.

I thought, you know what, I need to hit that goal. I had set it, and as crazy as it might sound, knowing that I can follow through on ANY goal I set for myself would be wonderful. So why not set up an easy mark - with a negative goal? Sounds like a doable goal to me.

On the way home last night, I went to Whole Foods to read. The one they recently built down on North and Sheffield is amazing, and I wanted to be around people and not go home.

I went and bought treats to eat while I read. Last night it was two pieces of cherry pie and some brownie bites. As I made the purchase, I wondered why I always felt it so important to eat while reading.

Then, as I sought out a place to sit, I was hit with more thoughts. I saw all these people there, working on projects together, eating together, laughing together. I saw girls, look like roommates having fun buying groceries together. I saw guys, are they friends? A couple? working their way through the aisles as well. Moms and kids. All these different groups of people, sharing an experience.

I've never really known what it's like to have that experience. I've always kind of been a loner, and always hung out with loners. People who didn't go shopping together. For anything - not clothes, not groceries, not home improvement items. I've been noticing people shopping at my job at The Home Depot. I could not imagine going there with my girlfriends. Who's fault is that - mine, for not inviting them? I suppose so.

Anyway, this is totally rambling, but back to that conversation with the male co-workers about losing the weight. I did make a comment about not being ready to lose it. I said, "I suppose people couldn't figure out why I gained all this weight, but I'll tell you - it's a lot easier here than it is thin. Thin means guys deciding they want to harness my outgoing-ness and make it their own. I don't want anyone harnessing me. I want to be able to talk with you, and you, and whoever else I want to talk with, and I don't want to be told I can't or have a guy think I want more than just the moment of conversation that we are having together. I can do that at this weight. I don't like a lot of things about being this weight - but that part I do like. I like that part a lot. It's very safe here, and I think I'm going to be here until I know how to manevuer through life otherwise."

One of the guys just kind of walked off, like, what a load of bullshit. The other, though, looked at me with what seemed to be new eyes. I could see he never thougth that somebody might have literally thought about keeping the weight on. I think we all think that weight is this unconcious *THING* that nobody can seem to *CONTROL* - well, some people can. But the ones that can are annoying, self righteous bitches and pricks. Choose to be fat? Benefits to being fat? I could see that it had never occurred to him.

But it was bothering me after I said it outloud. Because, in some respects, it is a load of bull. Or, rather, more like this: somewhere in my psychological pursuits, I heard it said that having a revelation, for example, "I am mean because my parents beat me," is only revelatory in that moment. We should not, pardon the pun, revel in our revelations. We realize them, and then we work to move past them.

Most of us don't, though. We stay in them. I'm a bitch to my sister because she was a bitch to me. I am not nice to my aunt because she was never nice to me. I can be an asshole because my dad was an asshole to me. In general, I can hurt other people because somewhere along the way, somebody hurt me. We all operate on this motto. Poor, poor me - so fuck you.

My little share with the guys spun in my head all day. I've known for quite a few years now that I have a hard time dealing with male attention. And female attention for that matter. The other guy had heard me say it once before. Maybe twice. Seems I've been reveling in my revelation - spinning my wheels in the muck and the mire, instead of getting myself some sand to get myself out.

Or is the weight the sand that is helping me get out?

Seeing that I want that - that I want to be able to talk and laugh and have fun with everyone I meet - do I really have to stay fat to be able to do that? Do I have to absorb other people's insecurities? Or, do I fear that I do want to cause trouble, and then just innocently say, "Oh, I was only having fun..." ? Maybe I do. Maybe. I. do.

I got thinking something about my sister last night - how I've stayed fat to stay safe around her. That she trained me that thin is dangerous; for I learned early, if I outshine her, as my other sister seemed to, she will go out of her way to destroy me, as she did my other sister. Being fat was a survival technique.

Well, survival time is over. Now, it's thrival time. And it's now or never.

Today I went shopping. Had some guilt on this, as I didn't check my dollars available to spend before I did it, but I did it. That's for my DA meeting to contend with. However, I spent $150 and got some good summer outfits, outfits I feel good about going out in - even though I am a size 24.

24?!?! How did that happen?

Don't get me wrong, I'm fully aware that I've been hoavering around 240ish, and I'm fully aware that 240ish pounds has to fit into something. I never knew what a size 24 looked like. No, I take that back. I know what a size 24 looks like. And I don't think it looks like me. How's that for being squarely in the middle of a big ol' river in Egypt?

As I tried on clothes today, I started off with size 20s, and then remembered that that last pair of jeans I bought - a pair of Levi's, and may I say, Levi's are amazing - they can make great asses look greater, and fat asses look, well, we don't want to say they look fatter. They look allright. At least, again, in my mind, which might just be so far down along that river in Egypt that what the Levi's have done for me might just be a mirage. Maybe I should take a picture and post it - I've been meaning to get some pics on here. That's probably a good one to start with - a big dose of reality to get this boat a little bit back on course.

Anyway. I bought some outfits that were outside of anything I've ever purchased before. I bought three types of outfits: For one, I bought some yoga clothes.

In the past, my workout outfits were baggy t-shirts gotten free from random events I'd attended, with baggy shorts. The thought of buying those cute little workout outfits ... oh no. Only the tragic People Only Love Me If I'm Thin people buy those. All those matching tops and pants, with the piping that only goes with each other. Not me. I like mix-y match-y separates, comfy cotton knits and interesting patterns and textures.

I ended up spending $33 on a pair of white knit yoga pants and four interesting, bargain priced tops. Tight fitting. Too tight to wear in public, but not too tight to excercise in. They fit well, is my point. On a thinner body, they would look hot. On my current lumpy body, not so much. Is as if I have to back myself into my clothing preferences; and wearing these clothes at this weight and on this body shows me that this is simply my taste - I do not do it to show off when I am thin. I don't know why I feel I have to go about it this way. But I definitely feel I do. I can't wait to stretch out in my cute outfits. And I really can't wait until I look just as cute in the cute outfits as the cute outfits look cute on their own.

The next set of clothes I bought were for going out. I spent $40 on these three outfits. The first, which I absolutely LOVE, I have never bought an outfit like this before in my life. Let me give a little background.

If I were to pick a style for me, up until this point in my life, I would call it safe. And that is so interesting to me, because I don't consider myself a "safe" clothes wearing person. However, I've always been very careful not to draw too much attention to myself with the clothes I'm wearing, always been in style, but not too outlandish. These days, I seem to be going through my bourgouise hippy phase. Impeccably mis-matched, shlippy shloppy outfits that are planned to look unplanned. And so were the three I picked out today; the first, a sequined strapless grey knit top with a light, striped sweater to wear with it. It looks so hippie chic, I can't wait to wear it. I got two other tops that are just easy, breezy, summer tank type tops, that I want to wear with a covering to cover up my arms, but they are along that same hippie chic vein. The jeans are ripped - ripped jeans! ONly on the fronts of the thighs, and you can't see any skin, and there are no rips on the backs of the legs. ME - a SIZE 24 WEARING RIPPED JEANS! It's completely preposterous. In fact, if I saw another size 24 wearing them, I'd think, who the fuck does she think she's kidding? Does she really think anyone is going to find her attractive in that outfit? The answer is - yes. Me. I find me attractive in this outfit. Or, rather, I find the outfit attractive. And I've decided I'm not going to not wear something because of my weight. If I can't wear it with the weight on, I'm realizing I won't be able to wear it in good conciousness when the weight is off.

I am wearing the outfits that I have always denied myself wearing

, reasoning that I can't wear them because I'm not a size six. And then when I lose weight, I feel bad for looking good in them. These are outfits that would be totally sexy and hot on a thinner person. I have to learn to love me wearing whatever I want to wear. Then maybe I can love me when wearing the same clothes when I get skinny, too.

The third group of outfits are, well ... I'm not sure how to classify them. Maybe these are the clothes that represent the side of me I don't want to admit is there? Again, I've never bought clothes like these, either. The first outfit, which I HAD TO HAVE was a pair of mauve walking shorts and a white, v-neck, cable-knit sweater. VERy Martha's Vineyard. VERy "Welcome to my yacht." VERy, "Hello. I'm wealthy and I wear sweaters with shorts. Welcome to my yacht." I don't know. I'm actually a little afraid of this outfit. The next outfit is a cotton shirt, in a kind of western-ish floral pattern. It's too big, I have to take it in, but I want to get a pair of white capri's and wear them with it. It's my, "Hello, I'm a hip 30-something mother who doesn't wear cleavage any more. Isn't this top cute?" It's a little tragic. Maybe I need to tap my tragic side, too.

The last think I bought is a black cotton/spandex shirt dress, with slight puffing a the caps of the sleeves, and some detailing on the chest. It's got a slightly southwestern feel to it, and I think it would look super cute with a big chunky turquoise necklace, a brown loose-fitting belt with one of those big silver southwestern belt buckles, and some red coral accents. With a pair of cowboy boots. If I can get myself to wear that outfit at this weight, that will be truly amazing. For I truly feel that that should only be worn on thin, attractive bodies.

OK, that's enough for today. I feel like the outfits were important purchases, purchases that are saying who I am. For the first time in my life, I feel like I am dressing for myself, and not for keeping up with the latest fashion trends, keeping myself acceptable to my friends and family, or for what would make people on the street put me in the "fancy" category. This is truly, for the first time in my life, when I simply bought clothes based on the sheer fact that they would be fun to wear. Regardless of my size or how I pull the outfit off. Good taste is good taste, no matter the size, and tragic is tragic at any weight, too. Thanks for listening. Until next time.