When we were growing up, MommyJ and I didn't get along very well. At all. I hated her because she was thin, and she hated me because I had boobs. Sadly, we missed out on a lot of years when we could have been better friends because we were so wrapped up in ourselves -- and when I look back, I can't see that anything was wrong with the way either one of us looked. (I only wish I could be as fat now as I thought I was back then!)
As I have gotten older and endured the changes that happen to a pregnant, breastfeeding, tired, overworked Mommy body, the aforementioned body parts have only continued to grow, so much so that immediately after I finished nursing MayDay, I seriously considered surgically reducing their size.
One day, on a whim, while my mother-in-law was keeping all three boys so I could run errands, I stopped at the lingerie shop in our little downtown area. I had heard they did bra fittings and I wondered what they could do for me. I walked in and said I had some bra issues. Oh, yes, she said, you do. Let's see what we can find.
She didn't even measure me! Just a look, a couple of pokes and prods, some manhandling I hand't been expecting, and voila! A bra that lifted, separated, and took some serious pressure off of my back and shoulders, plus it looked pretty all by itself and did wonders for how I actually looked with clothes on. I tried on many, and I am here to tell you that these babies are seriously engineered, steel reinforced wonders of the modern world.
I was absolutely sold. And then she told me what my size was . . . I nearly swallowed my tongue. It was so far from what I had been wearing -- it's not a wonder I'd been having issues! Who knew that bras with preteen band sizes came in cup sizes so far up the alphabet?
I spent $300.
And then I called my husband and told him the good news: I just saved him $5000 since I wouldn't need surgery anymore! He grumbled, until he saw the results, and he, too, was very . . . impressed. My mom said I looked like I'd lost 20 pounds. Who wouldn't be all for that?!?
Jump to this past week. We had some shopping to do for the boys, so we drove an hour to our local outlet mall. I needed a new pair of jeans, and I'm partial to The Gap, but it pains me to spend $70 for pants I can find for $40 at the outlet.
(Side Note: My brother once said that he thinks The Gap people snuck into his house in the middle of the night, measured his butt, and then made him a pair of pants. This is exactly how I feel about the Long & Leans. I don't know why I ever try on jeans any place else.)
I mentioned in passing that I needed to go to The Gap to see if they had any Long and Lean jeans on sale. This stopped CPod short.
"You wear Long and Lean jeans?"
Yes, I said, I do, and don't they look fabulous?
And please, could you mask your incredulity just a little?
Admittedly, his disbelief is merited: he is a long and lanky 6'5". This only serves to make me look even shorter and curvier than I really am, which is a voluptuous 5'4". And because he, of course, does not understand what I do: you buy the jeans that you aspire to be. That's why I don't buy Curvy and Straight jeans from The Gap -- it might be considered pornographic were I to put on jeans designed to enhance your curves.
Throw all of this into the wonderful stew that is my body image, and add this on top: I broke my treadmill. The repairman came this morning and replaced the warrantied parts, but still, it's not great for your self-esteem to know that you're responsible for splitting the running deck of your treadmill longways down the middle. I mean, am I really that GINORMOUS? Of course I'm not. I can always blame it on CPod.
I am fighting a battle against the insecure me, but I will persevere. Because I know that if I hadn't been running on that treadmill with regularity, I wouldn't be able to finish a 5K in under 26 minutes. (I know, really, I should weigh nothing!) Nor would I have a seriously healthy heart and really low cholesterol. I know that I will not be winded from playing with my children in the back yard. I know that if I have to run for my life, I have a good chance of outrunning whatever is chasing me. And I know that I am truly doing what is best for my body, even if the good health result doesn't have the bonus side effect of making me trim and slim. Ah, well. It's just not in the genes.
I am proud of this Gap Long and Lean size 10Ankle booty -- it's the only one I've got! And I love my 32G bras -- they work better than any I have ever tried before! And I will beat you, CPod, when we run our 5K in the spring -- mark my words!
Postscript: I know we come in all shapes in sizes, and there are probably those of you reading this who wish I would just shut my skinny self up. There are also those of you who see that I wear a size 10 and hope you are never that huge.
Please remember that how we see ourselves is an entirely different matter than how we see each other. You may think I look great the size I am, but feel terrible about yourself -- and if you asked me, you'd find that I think you look great, too. Or, you could be like me half the time -- I doll myself up for a night out with CPod and think I look really hott until I see myself in a mirror or photograph and get a hefty dose of reality. (MommyJ, I think gadonkadonkiness is hereditary!)