Life-long Vow Broken in Shame

I was the fat kid. Well, I wasn't really. I look back at pictures and think how cute and little I was. When I was in elementary school I was slender. But somewhere in 6th grade little girls decided I was just a tad too chunky. I was tormented. They mocked me in the locker room (what the hell are Middle Schools thinking by making awkward adolescents be humiliated by dressing (or GOD FORBID showering) before one another. And unattended (understandably). However, this is breeding ground for life-altering humiliation and life-long invisible scars). They mocked my outfit choices. They mocked my smell. They labeled me. Accused me of being homosexual (though I thoroughly enjoy men, for the record).What I find so ironic is, these tormenting words haunted me so tremendously that my perception of my body was completely distorted; I wore XL shirts when really I needed to be wearing Mediums. Literally. In high school when I lost all my weight I began weeding through my closet and discovered clothing I'd worn when I was younger. They were all MUCH larger than I even wore at my heaviest. Crazy isn't it?

Regardless, what I find even more fasinating than that, with the beauty of facebook, I have reconnected with a few of those "tormentors": they don't remember being so cruel. So, the very girls who altered my perception, who were the catalyst to my years struggling through depression and self-hatred, don't remember it. And I'm sure, with age, these women have become beautiful wifes, mothers, and leaders in our communities. In fact, I'm confident one of them is a wonderful person.

Anyway, moving beyond that heart-wrentching story I've told hundreds of times (in a "former" life I was a youth pastor) to inspire compassion for others and hope for the tortured, I bring a lighter-note of a vow I made early in life that required that back story. Note: this vow might offend some, and for that I truly apologize. I vowed to never ever ever ever step foot inside a Lane Bryant shop, never ever never. Number 1, I vowed that because I decided I would never wear clothing that was bigger than it needed to be. Number 2, I vowed that because I decided I would never NEED to wear clothing in a "plus-sized" category. And thank God, I have, relatively, always had a petite frame; I've typically always worn small tops and 8-10 sized bottoms.

But. Over the past two years, I've begun wearing Medium tops. This was my first indication that something was going wrong. (Now, I know, Medium is not large or extra-large, but for me, Medium is not the direction I want to be going.) Then this year, I was forced into size 12 pants. I haven't purchased jeans in probably about 10-12 months because I refuse to buy anymore size 12s. (Side Note: even if Stacy London and Clinton Kelly say I should wear what fits me well, disregarding size, I say: I'll write a blog and exercise my ass off before I wear sizes that remind me daily that I'm fat. So there!)

Ok, ok, sorry, I keep getting distracted. Soooo... how I broke my vow. Well, if you recall from my first post, one of my weight loss goals is a pair of sexy riding boots.

(Carlos Santana's <3)

So anyway, I wanted a pair so badly this year. I made my husband scour stores with me. But not one pair would fit. Either they weren't big enough for my calves, or they would have a weird strap somewhere which would cut off my circulation... but I had looked at Lane Bryant online. They had boots. ::sigh:: So as a last resort... regretfully... I went in. The worst part is: the boots there STILL looked awful on me. Yeah. They fit. But they were snug. I was SO So SO bummed. And depressed. Mainly because I broke my vow, but mostly because, I needed to be there.

Once we left, I vowed to never go into a Lane Bryant again.

Now, I know to some Lane Bryant is a wonderful store. And, granted, they have really cute stuff. But for me, to have to shop there means I've gained too much weight. I just hope my body will comply.

My next installment will be humorous fat comments made to me over my lifetime. Until then:

Au revoir.