From the Archives: When are you due?

Yesterday, I was at the local veggie stand, doing the right thing, buying local with my organic cotton produce bags and my canvas shopping bags when all of a sudden it happened. The lovely little old lady that makes me think of my grandma said “So, when are you due?”. After fumbling on my words for a minutes, I said “I’m not pregnant”. A look of horror swept her face and she told me that she was sorry. She began to fumble on her words, too. And my witty humor defense mechanism kicked in and I said “ah, no worries, I’m just fat” and I laughed. She handed me my change and patted my hand gently and once again said that she was sorry. I turned around fighting back tears and said to my dear husband that I planned to never wear the dress that I was wearing again.

In the car, it took all I had to not burst into tears. I drove home softly weeping just begging for my driveway to appear. Thank goodness I was shopping locally. I’m not sure what would have happened if I would have had to stay in public any longer. Once I arrived home, the tears and heavy sobs began to flow. I crawled into my big soft bed and cried until I felt like I couldn’t cry anymore. Dear husband stood by and rubbed my back. I felt as if everything I had ever done in this quest for good health and a trim body had been done in vain. I felt that I MUST look that way because, if there is a god, he or she knows that I would NEVER ask a woman that unless I was absolutely 100% positive that she was pregnant. In a nutshell, my feelings have never been more hurt and on top of that I was hungry. I had been hungry for 2 hours and this whole thing made me feel guilty for being hungry.

After my sob fest, I took a shower and calmed down immensely. We hung out, played the wii, watched some tv and did the normal “it is hot as hell and no way am I stepping outside” Saturday afternoon thing. By dinner time, I was ravished with emotion again. And I, being the good little food addict that I am, turned to food. I ate and ate and ate until I couldn’t fit in another bite. With every bite I took my hurt feelings turned into guilt and the pain just grew. At one point, my dearly beloved even asked me if I was still hungry. This should have been a major red light but I just said “not really” and kept shoving it in. At the end of my food party, I felt sick and sad and guilty. That food really helped, huh?

And do you want to know the most ironic part? The most ironic part is that only 2 days ago, I was telling my friend Mara that I was actually in a place of acceptance of being the size that I am. Funny the difference a day can make. Now I am miserable coming up with exercise schemes in my wacked out brain.

Makes me think of my friend “hot” Kelly at work. Kelly is hot. She is gorgeous, has a smokin’ hot bod, dresses in the most fashionable clothing and get this, she is also the nicest person you could ever dream of meeting. Makes you want to vomit really. Jealous Much? Not me. Ha. Anyway, Kelly is a naturally thin person. She eats “whatever she wants”, exercise is just a “normal” part of her day, she doesn’t think of it as torture, she actually enjoys it. She walks 4 miles every morning, rain or shine. She attends 2 pilates classes per week and she does Px90 or something like that. She deserves her smokin’ hot bod. But I digress.

It makes me think of her because I want that dedication. I want exercise to just be a natural part of my life. I want to be able to just pop out of bed at the crack ass of dawn and get to moving my booty. And everyday of my life, I don’t do that. Maybe tomorrow.