Self-Pity and Self-Loathing in the United Kingdom
Today's Fatslaying Workout Nothing - houseful of guests
Today's Weight 199.5 lbs
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OK, I warn you well in advance that today’s entry is heavy on self-pity and self-hatred, and light (nay, non-existent) on humour and sense of perspective. Those of a sensitive or nervous disposition may wish to avert their gaze now…
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Well, the wedding came and went, and I survived it and live to fight another day, but it won’t exactly go down in the annals as one of my better days.
There is nothing designed to make you so aware of your shortcomings as a wedding, is there? Suddenly the security blanket of old shapeless comfy jeans and sweaters is torn away, and you’re expected to metamorphose into some gorgeous creature in chiffon, stilettos and a hat, posing in all your photogenic glory for endless photos, whilst managing not to upstage the bride at the same time as you retain enough sexiness to engender lustful thoughts in the male contingent.
Ergo, it was destined to be a disaster.
The trauma started weeks ago, when I couldn’t find a single flattering outfit in my size and price bracket, and I ‘settled’ – in the manner of fat girls everywhere – for the least horrible thing that fitted, with the consequence that instead of happy anticipation as the blessed day approached, my stomach got more and more clenched and knotty, and I felt almost sick with tension and unexpressed misery by the time the day dawned.
The preceding evening, K’s brother arrived with his partner, and she modelled her dress for us, which was a hugely flattering, black clingy creation that had cost her £300…and I was suddenly glaringly aware that my outfit was nothing but a glorified summer skirt and T-shirt combo that was more suited to a day at the beach than for the wedding of your sister-out-law.
It was pretty much downhill from then onwards.
K did his best to reassure me that there was nothing wrong with wearing a T-shirt to a wedding, and said that I should ‘pretend that I was smartly dressed, and hold my head up high’, which was supposed to make me feel better, but somehow it didn’t. Men, they never get it right, do they? Poor things – they try their best and it always backfires!
I felt ashamed and ugly the whole day, exacerbated by the fact that K’s uncle was like a lecherous old goat with K’s brother's girlfriend and the groom’s forty-something daughter, but greeted me with the immortal words “Hello, Chunk”, and then directed a constant stream of anti-fat comments towards me the whole day.
[By the way, I didn’t think I was missing much by not having him pawing all over me all day, but you know what I mean, right? I didn’t want him humping my leg like a lust-crazed Jack Russell, but I didn’t want him treating me like an ugly old bat either. *Sigh*. A happy medium would have been nice, that's all I'm saying.]
Anyway, I gritted my teeth and got through the photos and the wedding and the lunch - dignity just about intact – and then cut ahead a few hours, and I did the one thing that we fat girls probably dread most of all in the whole world.
Yep, you guessed it – I walked back into the gathering (having gone for a pee) with the inner lining of my skirt tucked up in my undies at the back and the whole of my arse on view through the gauzy transparent outer layer.
Man, I am just so not a girly girl! That never happens with jeans! I'm obviously not a woman who can be trusted with feminine accoutrements...
As if that wasn’t mortifying enough, I’m still far too fat to be able to go bare-legged in the summer so I was wearing a pair of tights (pantyhose to any American readers) cut off above the knee to protect me from fattie-thigh-chafe, so not only was the gathering treated to the sight of my fat arse in its lovely granny-drawers, but, as an added bonus, they got let in on one of my most-despised fat-girl secrets too.
Yay, me.
Forget Bridget Jones sliding down the firemen’s pole – this was THE MOST MORTIFYING EXPERIENCE OF MY ENTIRE LIFE (even worse than The Great Sugaring Fiasco – remind me to tell you about that one some other time!)
K (bless him!), gallantly leapt to stand behind me and whisper in my ear about my predicament, and said he was “sure he was the only one who noticed” (yeah, right), and that even if he wasn’t, I “shouldn’t be embarrassed, because these things happen”.
Yes, they happen. To me they happen.
Oh, yes, to me they happen.
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To end on a positive note, two good things came out of the day.
One, I now know (if I ever doubted it before) with 100% certainty that K loves me whatever I do and however I look. He expressed that love with numerous heart-aching kindnesses designed to boost my confidence and self-esteem throughout the day and to mitigate my horrendous embarrassment. He is truly a special man, and I'm so lucky to have him.
Two, I am more committed to getting to a healthy weight than ever before. My enthusiasm and desire to get to goal have come back with renewed force and intensity, because - quite frankly - I don’t want to feel that worthless and ugly and humiliated because of my size ever again. Commitment has risen, phoenix-like, from the flames of degradation and shame.
Of great humiliation, great resolves are born.
In future if I walk into a crowded room with my dress tucked up my arse-crack, I'll at least have butt-cheeks and thighs to be proud of.
Remind me of those words if I ever run out of motivation again...
Kim looks like a lovely man. =) For you to say you recognized that he loves you and all of that is quite empowering within itself. Just do what you\'re doing - take all of that anger, humiliation, torment, frustration - all of it - and take it out on the machines at the gym! That\'s what Im doing! =)
I think Im going to add you to my favorites, if you dont mind? This is my first visit here and I really enjoyed it. =)
*hugs*
~ Shel
Oh yes, done the panyhose thing myself, right into the back of my armor-plated girdle for the world to see. So, yeah, I feel for you there...
The lecherous uncle very likely chose to go the insult route because he knew that if he hit on you, you wouldn\'t sit back an take it. Ass-hats like him just *cannot* deal with the fact that some (sensible) women don\'t see them as god\'s gift and they must exact their revenge like the children that they are. To people like that, I still say that living well is the best revenge. When you get to your goal, and you will, you\'ll be glowing with brilliant good health and confidence and he\'ll still be a jerk who\'s not worth your notice.
Kim looks like a lovely man. What a sweet smile he has!
Hang in there, girl! You\'re doing great.
I think feeling bad about your outfit may have just been an easy target and reason for you to feel bad about yourself, to kick yourself a bit for having a \'down\' spell. I know because I have done this myself - still do.
So sorry to hear about the skirt. At least you didn\'t have TP stuck to your shoe as well! I had a friend - naturally slim, damn her - who had a similar experience. Though naturally slim and willowy, she was pregnant which led her to need to use the WC at the grocery on the way home from work. She was wearing a dress. Well, you know what happened in the bathroom. Next thing, she\'s wandering around the store, breezily continuing her shopping. Time passes. Then a lady runs up to her backside, presses in close, and does my friend the favor she didn\'t even know she needed - yanking her dress out of her pantyhose while urgently whispering her explanation in my friend\'s ear. My friend of course was alternately relieved and horrified.
This things happen even to slim people, of course. They are cause for us not to run in shame, but to laugh at ourselves and life\'s little foibles. The bird doesn\'t poop on your head because you\'re fat. It poops because that\'s just what birds do. Easier to say than do, I know, but once you\'re able to laugh at this, you will feel alot better, I think.
Finally, as to your closing words: It\'s great to have motivation back but remember, losing weight to [try to] get others\' approval is never a very good reason. At least not good enough - because who the hell cares what those idiots think, anyway?
Come back tomorrow, FS! Laugh this off. You have a hell of a lot going for you. If you were naturally slim, too, on top of your many other wonderful attributes - well then life might be getting a bit unfair on your behalf, mightn\'t it! hugs to ya, chiclet.