Easter morning I put on my baggy jean jumper, a long sleeved high necked pastel striped blouse, small gold ball earrings, clunky shoes, minimal make up, my hair cap, and a sweater. I felt ugly. I looked like a missionary.
I had planned to wear a blue and black flowered linen sheath dress with little cap sleeves, a boat neckline and slits in the hemline to my knees. I had cute sling back black pumps and sheer black hose. I had an open weave black sweater with 3/4 length sleeves a big boat neckline and a waist, to wear as a wrap. I had dangly turquoise and black silver earrings, a silver and black watch and a beaten silver bangle bracelet. I was planning to wear my hair poofed up with product and dusted with luminescent spray. When I modeled this outfit for Mark on Friday he said I looked hot. As he detests Paris Hilton this was compliment indeed. And I agreed, I looked hot.
So what happened? On Friday I weighed 179. On Sunday morning I weighted 183. That's four damn pounds. Why at 179 was I "hot" and at 183 a missionary? I have no idea. And it is driving me mad.
I wasted half of Easter day detesting myself. I finally realized I was acting like a self centered nut, asked for God's and Mark's forgiveness, and got on with enjoying my day. But I am still in the dark about the self loathing that reared its ugly head with the four pound weight gain. Four pounds, no one could tell but me. And it was probably all water anyway. What was/is my deal? I spent two hours on the phone last night with a friend discussing possibilities. Here are our main conclusions:
1. Loss of control - I have gained four pounds and now I will continue eating out of control and gain it all back, and then some. I will not be able to stop myself from eating. I will hate myself.
2. Body dismorphia - My perceptions about my size are screwed up. I feel as fat with a four pound weight gain as I did with a sixty pound weight gain. And I will hate myself.
Okay I now see why the attack of self hatred. But why the unwillingness to do something about the ugly feeling. It stands to reason that if you felt ugly you would do all in your power to try and make yourself look and feel better. Doesn't it? But I did just the opposite. Instead of attempting to counter the weight gain and make myself look better, I tried to make myself look invisible. What's up with that? Is this more of the old tapes stuff? I felt fat as of old and if I was fat it was less painful to go unnoticed? Safer? Wow....I guess I haven't realized the extent of my fat need to hide. Hard to take this all in. If y'all have more insights I am in sore need of them.
What does this mean in the here and now? I want to look elegant whatever my size. I want to love myself enough to not look as though I were about to present the Gospel to the natives. Fat or thin I shouldn't have to hide out of fear. Gad, I feel militant all of a sudden.
Ethels, take your style, what ever size it is, to the streets. Stop hiding.