Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Big-Boned. It's Not Just a Euphemism.

I was wearing women's size 12 pants when I was in fourth and fifth grade and in 16's by 8th grade. None of that Junior's section crap for me either. Nope, it was Ladies 16's. And I felt fat. These were in EXTRA LARGE territory after all.

Because everywhere I am hearing about how we should be a size 6 or 4 or of course, a size freaking zero. Because those are the sample sizes they are making for models! So the theory is that if I could lose enough weight, I could one day be a size six or four. I could get to be a SMALL. If I worked hard enough. If I just lost enough weight!

Like a lot of teenagers, I became obsessed with my weight. I stopped just short of developing a full blown eating disorder, but the obsession of counting calories consumed most waking moments for a couple years there... and I only ever made it to a size 8. Which at the time seemed like failure. Why not 6 or 4?

I haven't thought about all this kind of crap in a long time. Went to college, met a dude, got married, got secure in my body, myself. Have gone up and down in body size. Last year I dropped a bunch of weight due to a migraine med I went on, I know, you all want to punch me. All this to say, randomly, I haven't weighed so little since high school. I haven't tried on jeans to size myself (I abandoned pants with like, buttons, a couple years ago, I just wear jeggings, yay, pajamas you can wear outside!), but I did decide to try a new style, so I bought a bunch of dresses off ModCloth.

I figured, hey, I'm skinny now! I'm probably a Medium.

Picture me: aglow to get my new coat from Modcloth. I have not purchased new clothing (other than aforementioned jeggings) in two or three years. I take the glorious garment from the box and slip it on one arm. And then try to slip it on the other arm.

Except it doesn't go.

I mean, it sort of goes. I can jab the arm in there, but trying to button the damn thing, well let's just say that sucker's not going in. It almost gets there. But even if I suck in really, really hard, it's not making it. Because there are these things called RIBS. And they're in the way. Because even though I'm randomly so skinny that my waist is basically just my f'ing RIBS, I'm STILL not getting into a Medium.

That's right kids, I'm STILL A LARGE. At the smallest size I should healthily be, I'm a LARGE. 

There was never EVER hope of me fitting into a size 4 or 6. Because my BONES wouldn't have fit. I'm only now realizing this at age 32. The bones of my hips would literally split the seams and not get into those motherf'ers. It wasn't the 'thunder thighs.' There are bones involved!

So I start looking around at my friends. Like the one who fit into size 4's. Like, measuring the width of her hip bones to the width of mine. I'm so skinny now my hip bones freaking stick out! And there's no way these suckers are fitting in anything smaller than like a size 10 or 12 pants now that I'm an adult!

Yet when we say we're big-boned, people laugh under their breath. Yeah, okay, they think. Just a nice way of saying overweight. And then I want to punch them in the face. Now I have proof! I'm skinny enough to see these damn big bones poking out, and they're just mother'fing bigger than all the tiny size 4's out there!

I wish we could all rearrange our ideas of SMALL and LARGE or somehow do away with all this shit! GAH! Because these size idealizations screwed me up so much as a teenage girl. I was only ever gonna fit into Large or Extra-Large clothes, and not because I was fat. This is such an f'ing revelation to me, now all these years later. I want to go hug teenage Heather.

Long story short, I reordered the dresses and coat in Large.

THIS IS WHAT LARGE LOOKS LIKE! OR SKINNY! OR WHATEVER YOU WANT TO CALL IT! I feel f'ing gorgeous, so that's what I'll call it ;)