It's never a good feeling to be the fat kid.
The funny thing is, I always considered myself the fat kid, even when I wasn't. The feeling didn't come from my weight in earlier years, but more so from the people with which I ran. They had thin faces; mine is more rounded. They had skinnier torsos; I was square with a hourglass figure at the tip. I have dark hair, a product of my Native American heritage and very pale skin, which made me look bigger; most of my friends growing up had blond hair... or pretended to. While I didn't read a lot of fashion magazines that told me how to stay stick thin, mainly because that's a current phenomenon credited to the waif movement, I knew that I looked different, and that correlated in my head as, well, fat and ugly.
Although, believe me, you wouldn't have known it from the staggering amount of boyfriends and inversely small amount of time I stayed single when I was younger. I chalked it up to my personality and the fact that I was strange and exciting. Funny thing is, when I've looked up some of my "pretty" friends from my childhood and early adolescence on Facebook, they don't look as pretty as grownups as I imagined them to be.
And while looking back at photos will confirm the worst - that I was more so mentally unable to consider myself pretty, attractive, skinny, and smart all in the same lot - it's also confirmed what I know to be true today - I'm fat.
Recently, I've tried to convince myself otherwise: that it was water weight, humidity, perception. I tried sucking in so long all day that I wanted to just drop. But now that my size 12 and 14 pants don't fit, and I'm buying 16 (and just went shopping at Fashion Bug, where I would bitch and complain while shopping with my mom in younger years) I feel fat and I know I look fat. People are looking at my midsection.
The number is the indicator. I keep buying bigger and bigger clothes, and growing into them, instead of saying, Eww, this is enough. Heck, what I wouldn't give to be a 12 right now... without popping the buttons off of my work pants like I did the other day.
Counting the Calories
When I was in college, I weighed roughly 145. When I used to feel like I gained a few pounds, I'd pull out my Denise Steel Buns of Steel and Abs of Steel tapes and work it off. I also had the luxury of working retail while I was in high school and college, so running around all day and eating McDonald's food didn't quite change my figure.
I knew I had a problem when I graduated from college and left my job at Office Depot to start my new desk job as a financial editor. I promised everyone on the crew that I'd stop by and visit, mainly because I was still living at home, right over the hill. A few months after starting my new job, I stopped by Office Depot, and one of the guys I worked with said that I looked like I'd, "Put on a few pounds, but was still cute." While I don't remember what I did afterwards, I probably ate something crappy to make me feel better.
Now, I weigh about 190. As a woman I know fluctuate, but this is not an error in my scale. When I was getting personal training three times a week and kickboxing, as well as doing Weight Watchers (for the first time) and seeing a nutritionist, I went from about 180 to 165. I was happy at 165.
I could have lost another 20, but I was good. I was happy. I felt sexy. My body had filled out. I do come from a more full-figured family. My mother and my aunt are rounder women. We have larger boobs and hips and thighs. And it wasn't helping my cause that the real partying after college started: lots of happy hours turning into late-night binge drinking, followed by steak subs and french fries to soak up some of it in hopes of getting through work the next day. And doing it all over again. And then spending Saturday and Sunday mornings sleeping in and sitting on the couch, until it was time to go to the bar or the club or a house party.
It's true: When you're not counting the calories, and you're drinking Yuenglings and Guinnesses, the pounds really start to creep up on you. Now I've started Weight Watchers, again. And I hope to be more successful than my previous weight loss endeavors.
The Skinny and the Low Down
Probably the scariest part of this entire transition is my boyfriend. He's skinny as a rail, and of course, says I'm not fat. When I met him I was 165. His eating habits have directly affected me in a bad way. The boy works production work, on his feet 10 hours a day, 4 days a week. He can put away a Five Guys burger and a Qdoba burrito in one sitting. When idle on the weekends, he eats all day, and big meals roughly every 2-3 hours.
At first, when we met, that was ok. I was still on my diet, at 165, having a lot of sex for a workout and running around town. But relationships bog you down in many places: the waist and the home in most instances.
Nights ordering pizza, watching movies, drinking beer. Not good for anyone interested in watching their figure.
While I'm only on Day Two of Weight Watchers, and alone for my meals since he works night work, the main test is going to be the weekend. I have to eat only salads, and make sure not to drink much. That shouldn't be a problem, since I've officially shunned beer (except for a Miller Lite here and there). Wine and mixed drinks it is. But when I sit down to make dinner on Friday and Saturday, the last thing I'm sure he'll want is food that may make him skinnier. He did take some of my Chicken Parmesan with whole wheat pasta I made for work lunch today, so we'll see how he thought it was.
I know with Weight Watchers, it's all portion control and being prepared. I just need to make sure that if I do mess up one meal, I keep going. Also, this time, instead of doing meetings (full of people that look at me like I'm the skinny one as they talk about how they wake up in the middle of the night and eat hoagies) I'm doing the online version. My iPhone app will make it easier to check out foods I can eat at restaurants and fast food joints, and check the nutrition on things in the store before I buy them.
We are planning a Wegman's trip on Saturday, so that's a good step in the right direction. If there's one thing that does keep my boyfriend and I together, it's our love of food. This time, it's just going to have to be different food.
I did have hopes of getting to the gym yesterday or today, but lucky for me, my WW diet start has happened upon the start of my period and the worst cramps known to man. But better now, than when I'm in the wilderness next weekend for the Survival Course I'm taking with my best girlfriend.
Making the Wrong Things Right
Since most of the point of this blog is to write about the activities I'm doing to turn Almost Ann into the Ann she knows she is inside, there are two other great things that happened this week. For one, I officially emailed those I've chosen to write Letters of Recommendation for me for Goucher College's Creative Nonfiction Master's Program. It's a low-residency program that only lasts two years. I've written a lot of creative nonfiction and liked it, although poetry is always my fall back. I've been writing since I was... five? It's been the most constant thing in my life. And it's chronicled me through some of the best and worst times I've had. I've even been able to read some of my diary entries at a comedic show series here in Baltimore called Humiliated.
It's taking me approximately 8 years since leaving undergrad to finally parlay the fear I have of being a writer. Last year, I applied to the Library Science Program at University of Maryland, and while I made the Waiting List, I didn't make the final cut. It would have been an amazing program, and the option was there for me to apply again this year. With living in White Marsh, and commuting to Columbia, driving to Silver Spring somewhere in there for four years part-time just isn't in the cards. And while I love museums, and history, and the chronicling of our world, mainly the impetus for applying was money.
This time, I'm optimistic. I need to work on my portfolio, and the whole application is due January 1. But I have a good enough start. I already have the ideas for the project I want to work on as well. It's going to be a hard two years. But it's time to really step up to the plate.
The second thing that goes hand-in-hand with that is I finally bought a laptop today that I'm waiting to be shipped. I've been working on a desktop computer from 2003; while it does the trick, I'm really a mobile person. And it takes FOOOOOORRRREEEEVVVVVVEEEERRRR to load anything. I want to go to Border's, to the coffee shop, to other people's houses, and work. Sitting at a desk, like I do all day at work, isn't an option. I feel constrained. I'm very excited, especially since the move here to White Marsh is saving me about $750 in rent and at least $200 a month in utilities. I finally had the gall to buy something for myself that isn't a waste of money.
In fact, it may be the ticket to it.
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