Saturday, October 15, 2011

Maybe You Should Try Eating Oatmeal.

So, I'm sure I've mentioned this, but since January I've lost like 30 pounds.  I've shrunk, substantially.  Basically, I'm 2 sizes smaller than I used to be.

However, there's this little part of me that is completely convinced that tomorrow I'm going to wake up and be 30 pounds heavier.  That all these clothes I've tried on are just mislabelled, and I really still wear the size I used to.  I actually get scared to try on anything, for fear that it's all just some sort of really long dream and I won't be able to get that stuff zipped in the dressing room.

I wore my new FDNY sweatshirt today with a pair of straight cut jeans.  I caught a glance of myself in a mirror at my mom and dad's house and thought, "wow, I look really good in this!!"  I was genuinely surprised to see how, well, NARROW I looked.  The only mirror in my house is the tiny one over the bathroom sink.  I don't usually have that kind of view.

Anyhow, I went out and told my mom, "gee, look at how skinny this makes me look."  She gave me the once-over and said, "yes, you do look nice", in the sort of way you enter a room and comment on a beautiful Spring day, when it's sunny and 75, without a cloud in the sky, "gee, it sure is a lovely day out there!"  The person you just spoke to wants to respond, "Well, DUH, I can see that" but politeness forbids.   Anyhow, the fact that to my mom, my hotness was obvious got me to thinking - why isn't it so obvious to me?

I send HF pictures of myself frequently; probably 3 times a week. CLEAN pictures, usually right before I go out the door to work and my makeup still looks fresh, you pervert.  Get your mind out of the gutter.  Anyhow, he always responds with some variation of "Beautiful, as always."  (He's sweet like that.)  I usually write it off with a self-deprecating - "well, it was a good angle, good thing he can't see my ass" or "well, he's just being nice" or "well, he probably says that to everyone, like a Spokompton version of George Clooney".  Why can't I just take a compliment?

It hit me today as I was looking in that little, tiny bathroom mirror.  I can't see myself as attractive because I am at the same weight I was when my Ex first told me I was fat, and then proceeded to give me a list of things I could do to lose weight and therefore make myself more attractive for him.  This girl, this hottie bo bottie in the FNDY jacket with the beautiful blue eyes and killer rack, wasn't good enough for the one person who was supposed to love me unconditionally.  Side note - I had decided that day after "fatgate" to break off my engagement (which is one of 3 times I had come to that decision, but that's a whole other blog, babe), but then some traumatic stuff happened in my life and it just blew over.  The rest is history.  You know how it goes.

I wish I could tell you that this resulted in some sort of epiphany; that I've got a tidy little resolution for you, and that I'll never again suffer from self-esteem issues.  I really wish I could, but I can't.  It's still front and center in my mind.  I guess the talking points you may take away are 1) HF is well-mannered;  2) my Ex is a complete self-absorbed asshole, and 3) I'm not sure what size I'll be in the morning.


  1. You make me laugh, Tina. Laugh and laugh and laugh.

  2. Tina pours her heart out - Evie laughs - Tina eats a cheesecake.

  3. Oh, come on. That "fatgate" thing is hilarious. I can just imagine that ex of yours--that festering boil on the ass of all humanity--telling you that you need to improve yourself to be more attractive for him. What did he do to make himself more attractive to you. Did he spend a portion of his social security check on new tennis balls to jazz up his walker?

    You're beautiful. The fact that you could even think otherwise, is ridiculous. So yes, I laugh. I laugh because a siren sex goddess questions her infinite beauty. I laugh because Methuselah thought himself in a place to comment on the attractiveness of someone so far out of his league. I laugh because your self-talk is an amusement unto itself. "Well, it was a good angle, good thing he can't see my ass."

    Even DH cracked up at that line. Yes, I read your blog out loud to my husband. He finds your writing most comical, as well. If you don't want people to laugh, don't be so damn funny. Love you, girl. You beautiful, awesome, NARROW girl. HAHAHAHA "fatgate..." That is gold, baby. Pure gold.

  4. let's see the first time i saw ya was 2005, I was like whoa - "the girl can't help it". You were doing that 2nd ave. strut - enough said. The first time I saw you face-to-face, of course my hands started sweating and was certain that someone cranked up the heater to HOTNESS. (wow that was cheesy, oh well) You will always have it, no matter what the tag says. Just don't go all skinny-bitch-crazy on us, or I will sign you up for Cake-of-the-Month Club.

  5. 2nd Ave Strut- okay, the funniest part about that is,on those mornings when I'm going to work and I think I look good, I walk down 2nd Ave to the coffee place so I can check myself out in the big windows. Serious as a heart attack. I'm that completely vain.


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