This is about sizes and I have a few (insert hysterical laughter here) things to say about this topic.
I'm a "curvy, spirited, cellulite carrying, stretchmark scarred mother who borders on the clinical term of being near obese." Those who know me will either confirm or deny this statement. Some of my friends have even seen me in my undies as I've gotten ready for the Renaissance Festival or trying on clothes in a dressing room. These ladies have seen the real me. This is the woman who had the roadmap of her 40+ years and carried her 5'5 stature with as much dinity as possible.
I'm 148 lbs. Yep, I said it. And on a medical scale, my BMI is borderline obese. I wear a size 11 in jeans and they always have to be tried on as manufacturers seem to think that an ample rear means you don't have a smaller waist. How wrong they are.
Here's something some of you don't know. I used to be anorexic. I was 105 lbs when I met the man that I ended up marrying but before the wedding I had lost 20+ lbs. Honest. I stopped weighing myself at 85 lbs because I didn't want to acknowledge what the world was telling me. I didn't lose the weight because I thought that I was fat but putting it back on made me feel as if I would be fat.
As you can see, I love food again (a lot) and don't feel as guilty as I used to when I ate a huge plate at Thanksgiving. I do, however, have Body Dysmorphic Disorder as no matter what size that I am I now feel too big by the standards that I see in the mirror from 20+ years ago. It's that sad?
I'm by no means "too large" for a bathing suit or for skinny jeans....at least, not by my standards. My perception of "Large" may be what others call "fat", but that's how I am. I hate going by sizes in the stores and try to go for what fits my figure. That is an accomplishment because before I had my son, I hated touching anything that had a certain set of sizes on it. I've since trained myself that I need to grab the L or XL in certain stores, as they are what I like to wear plus that store has a distorted image of what the average women looks like.
I wanted a particular dress that was simple yet stylishly cut to work with my body type but they didn't understand that I couldn't see myself walking around in a sausage roll of a Medium when I clearly needed a L or XL (lovely and extra lovely, as I was told).
I've had women argue with me about what size I wear, even when I've shown them the tag that backs me up. It's freaking ridiculous. Yes, I have pants that are even 13/15, as they're slim cut and I am not. Don't yell at me that I'm just trying to make you feel better when I'm just wanting to cover all the acreage that God blessed me with. And don't fuss at me for thinking I need a large if you are more blessed than I am. I grew up with gorgeous, tall, blonde women who had huge breasts while I resembled a teenage boy with long hair.
What I'm getting at it is that this is my size, whether you agree with it or not. I know what it takes to zip up my jeans and I know what will shoot buttons off of my top when I sneeze. Don't jump to conclusions, argue, or even tell me I'm in the wrong part of the store. Yes, some of them said that as they knew that I was a mother with a teenager.
It's bad enough that I judge myself for every wrinkle, dimple, and pooch. Right? Do you really need to do the job better than I do? Aren't I my own worst critique? It's my body and if it offends you for me to be wearing a particular number then just go away. If I can snuggle up to these flaws every night then who cares? I was given a Coke bottle body with two legs and a sassy mouth so let me fill it or label it anyway that I care.
I'm off my Large soap box. :-)