Where’s my snare?

Where’s my snare?

Have you ever been hated or discriminated against? I have.

Particularly.. I remember a plane ride I took last November. Wow, was that really a year ago already?
Almost.. Almost.
I went to visit good friends, and traveled by myself.

I sat next to a relatively haggard gentleman of the hipster variety..
He was visibly upset to be seated next to a fat person, and made no attempt to hide his disgust.
He went as far as to get the flight attendant’s attention, to vocalize his anger at being wedged into the window seat next to me. This was at the beginning of our 4 hour flight together, so you might imagine how the rest of our trip went.

I guess I should have been more hurt, but it’s not like I hadn’t seen myself in the mirror. ¬†I found his cruelty almost comical, as a matter of fact, and made it a point to show him how to be a decent human being by offering the shy and nerdy girl next to me gum, and magazines to read. (she was staring at the back of the seat. like. what?)

The experience did, however, prompt me to purchase a ticket for first class on my return home. It was there I sat next to a woman who talked my ear off the entire trip about her relationship with her daughter, then casually dropped the word “nigger” in conversation. When referring to the time she accidentally had a black doctor while she was giving birth to her third child.
Casual racism. It’s legit.

I’m still unclear about which flight was worse. At least there was free champagne, and more whiskey than I could drink to numb the pain of the second flight, so that’s something.

Anyway.. This is what a closet looks like when you’ve removed all the clothes that are ten sizes too big.
I said ten.

Here are what the bags look like that will be carted to Goodwill.

And here are two pairs of boots I bought to celebrate. They will fit around my not-so-fat calves.

I’d like to say that things are different now, but I don’t feel that different.
Despite the nearly 100lb weight loss(i’m rounding way up, because that’s fun to do..), I still feel the same in my body. I still feel as round, and apologetic for the places my body goes without my permission.
Inexplicably, I look the same when I look down at myself.
I wonder if this is some sort of body dysmorphic disorder, or what. I wonder if this is just something I’ll have to get used to in my brain over time like everything else.

I’ll tell you something that is different..
It’s the way I’m received by the general public.
More people look me in the eye..
More people are prone to start a conversation with me.
They don’t tell you that the bigger you get, the more you are invisible.
It’s unnerving the first time someone flirts with you in years that isn’t a creepy gross weirdo.
It was even more unnerving the first time I actually flirted back.

Ten years ago, I lost a lot of weight, too.
I handled that poorly..
There was drinking involved, and I had forgotten during that time to teach myself how to love myself.
How to respect myself.
I gained that weight back with a quickness.

About two years ago, a man came into the little cafe I was working in, and handed me a two dollar bill.
He said that every day, I should take that out two times a day, and wish for the thing I wanted most out of life.
When he asked what it was I would wish for, I shrugged.
At some gentle coaxing, I shyly admitted, “Love.”
I blushed something fierce.
I never did his ritualistic mumbo jumbo.. But I kept the money in my wallet.
Just on the off-chance..
Little did I know that the love I would find was for myself.
Funny how magic works, right?

I have changed.
Not just my body, but the way I look at life, and who I am in it.
This summer I broke open, and began to rebuild.
I am both terrified and exhilarated by the possibilities of my future, but for now there are new boots.
And an entire closet to fill with clothes purchased in the front of the store.