This is a story in 2 parts. And I love my mom and I know she loves me. But.
Part 1
I wanted some boots. Some kick ass black boots. I have been looking for the perfect boots for a couple of years now. Since the weather is finally cooling off, and my toes were freezing in my sandals, I decided it was time to go on the boot hunt again. I was telling my mom about it. (Dramatic pause. Will pick up here in a second.)
Part 2
Well, you kinda know this part. I’m a big girl. Curvy, plump, bbw, call it what you will. And I have been curvy or plump or call-it-what-you-will since about, oh, second grade. And yes, being overweight has affected my life, not always in a good way, not always in a bad way. But one very definite way has been my personal sense of style. I tend towards dark colors and classic designs and nothing striped or too bright or too trendy (although low cut seems to do ok for me). I get trendy with purses and hair and shoes, but not clothes. And having been this way my whole life, basically, my mom was always trying to get me to lose weight. She was always dangling trendy clothes in front of me as the carrot to get me to…eat more carrots. Her starting line, leading into one of these conversations was always “When we get skinny, we’re gonna get…”
Tying it together
So I am telling my mom how I need to find some boots. And she said “I saw some really cute boots at DSW the other day. They were red.”
Me: I just want black, maybe brown.
Mom: Yeah, well, when we get skinny, we can get our boots.
And I think my head spun around a little. And I saw red. And I almost passed out from the sheer force of memory.
I haven’t heard those words in years; in fact, I had forgotten all about the whole “when we get skinny” thing.
I have spent my adult life growing comfortable in my skin. Making peace with my body. Knowing I could be doing more to be healthy but being at the place where I take responsibility and am realistic – I have PCOS and I do the best I can. Every few months I get serious and lose a little weight and as long as I maintain that, well, I’m pretty much ok with it. Honestly, if it bothered me that much I would DO something about it, more than I do.
So when my mom was encouraging me to delay getting something I wanted until a time when I would be “skinny” and would therefore “deserve” it, I was shocked back into childhood, back into an uncomfortable adolescence, back to worrying about the outside and not the inside, the surface and not the substance.
And honestly, that is so not who I am these days. I was really shocked at the strength of my reaction to her words and her sentiment – that unless you are skinny, you don’t deserve new boots.
Really?
Because I went boot shopping at lunch yesterday, and I found some high heeled, knee-high black leather boots – they are sexy to death and they make me feel hot as hell- and I bought them.
And I totally fucking deserve them!
