I was 21. I was starting to become heavy, but didn't realize it yet. I attracted a lot of attention, and enjoyed squeezing into tiny jean skirts and tight, cleavage-enhancing t-shirts. I didn't think about it much - too busy bar-hopping and having fun. I knew I was bigger than some - my best friend Carrie in particular. But she was the kind of skinny that no girl my size could EVER be, regardless of the amount of dieting and excercise and pills.
Carrie is the kind of girl who will always be 100 pounds, no matter how much she eats. In fact, if you'd asked me then, I would have said I'd rather have my body than hers any day. I had CURVES. She was always complaining that she looked like a boy naked and had to pad her bra with those gel boobs from CVS. I'll never forget walking downtown with her one night, me in my little skirt and fuzzy knee-high boots (I thought I was Paris Hilton before anyone knew who she was) and some guy leaned out of a car and said "Eat a sandwich, slut!"
I remember thinking somewhat smugly, "I'll never have THAT problem." I thought I was IT. The attention I got was always flattering and lustful. I used my body as a tempting tool and never thought of maintaining it or that my partying ways - beer, sugary cocktails, eating pizza at 3 am, no excercise - would ever have a lasting effect.
Fast forward a few years. Shopping with Carrie has become an excercise all right - in embarrassment. Struggling to keep up with her long-legged strides through the mall, always slightly out of breath, we were rushing around last minute trying to come up with Halloween costumes (read: sexy outfits that passed as costumes). We'd hit every trendy store - Hot Topic, Express - and I couldnt find anything that fit. I didn't come right out and say that nothing fit of course - I would just come out of the dressing room, sweaty and disheveled. "Not cute." Or, "Not what I'm looking for."
After running through JC Penney and Macy's and even PacSun, I could tell Carrie was becoming exasperated, and Hot Topic bag in hand, she finally stopped and turned to me. "Well obviously we need to go somewhere where they're going to have things in PLUS-SIZE."
I was shocked. Hey, I might not be able to fit my Junior's size 17 denim skirts anymore, but PLUS SIZE?! Plus-size women were the ones that worked with my mom; who wore appliqued sweaters with kittens and long skirts. I'd never stepped foot in a Lane Bryant - it had never occured to me to. I stammered something about how I didn't like that term. Carrie looked at me.
"Then what DO you want to be called?"
Wow. Until then it had never crossed my mind that I needed a special label. That what I was needed categorizing. I didn't know I was that ... different. I especially didn't know that my best friend thought this way.
Big girl, thick, big-boned, curvy, zaftig, plump, chubby, heavy, chunky, hefty.. You know how anorexic girls have body dysmorphic disorder - where they look in the mirror and see fat where there isn't? I think I had the opposite of that. I looked in the mirror and liked what I saw. I looked good! Thick, yes, but with curves in all the right places, and even though I tried to not think about the size of my jeans, I knew I felt good in them. Even sometimes, beautiful. Well, I had up until that day.
Carrie stayed skinny and we lost touch. She was still on the scene, bartending and partying, while I met a great guy and got serious. Watching a commercial the other day for a plus-size clothing line, the actress said "The key is to dressing for your body and knowing what looks good on YOU" and my man looked at me and said, "Someone I know knows how to do that VERY well!"
I'm not going to tell you I don't despair over the size of my jeans, or that I don't wish I could effortlessly walk into any store and pick out a dress without trying it on (and without Spanx), but I can tell you that I have friends in all shapes and sizes and don't label any of them in my head or otherwise. I can tell you I'm happier since the day I decided I wouldn't compare myself to others anymore, because I'm too special and unique for that. I can tell you that once you start to limit yourself to a category you are only limiting yourself, period. I can tell you that if you asked any person in my life what words they'd use to describe me, the term PLUS-SIZE wouldn't even be in their top ten.
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