Not-so-little Debbie in a small coat

Now when I call myself "Little Debbie" I don't mean that I am literally small. Though I am short, I would not call my stature (not to mention any other part of my body or spirit) "diminutive" by any means. But in the midst of an on going love relationship with Weight Watchers, I have found almost 10% of myself to have disappeared into an oblivion and am now stuck with the joyful (though somewhat annoying) task of finding clothes that fit. Now the problem with being "in transition" in terms of my weight is that it is not wise to buy too many of anything, due to the expectation of being 5-8 pounds smaller in the course of the next couple of months. This leaves me with one pair of jeans and two pairs of dress pants that have to be re worn enough times for me to utilize the 10,000 pairs of underpants I must go through before deciding it is finally time to visit the Laundromat. Blouses are a little more forgiving, but clothes that are even slightly too big make one feel and look pretty frumpy. 

Now as a devout "fat kid," which I have been almost my whole life, I know the rule. To look your best you must wear clothes that fit (not too big, not too small) which is made difficult by the boxy clothes worn by most thin women that stores such as Macy's and Old Navy just make bigger to accommodate the plus sizes. Then you have stores such as Sears or Lord and Taylor that think all big women want to wear is caftans and sweatpants (very expensive sweatpants) and Lane Bryant which sells its beautiful, albeit cheaply-made, clothes at ridiculous prices because they (and we) know that they are the only store where young, fat, aspiring fashionistas can shop.

So in addition to being a clothes minded Goldilocks, I, as a larger lady, have my own personal rule as well: NEVER, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, buy clothes that you cannot wear out of the store, meaning NEVER, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES buy clothes that are too small in order to motivate you to lose weight. 

And today, my friends, I broke my own cardinal rule. I purchased a coat that was too small. Now I suppose it is not as small as it could be. It fits in the shoulders and I can button the buttons. It doesn't look too bad actually, but the fact of the matter is, I know it is too small. I, of course, left the tags on and the coat hangs over the chair in my room, a dead weight of shame. It really is a beautiful coat (camel colored wool, pretty collar, big bell sleeves), but it the principle of the thing. I, being a terrible judge of weight, have no idea how much weight I would need to lose for this coat to fit the way I would want. Ten pounds is doable, but twenty? If I have to lose 20 lbs. to fit into the stupid thing is it even worth it? I don't even know!! I am at a loss, not really because of the coat, but because of the idea of a future that I never had really imagined feasible for me: a future in which I could shop in more than three stores, where my normal sized friends and I could shop at the same stores, where my doctor doesn't lecture me about weight loss, where I don't feel like the fat kid at Yoga class. I understand I will still never be diminutive, but I could be on the big side of average.

Up until I was 22, I would use the phrase, "well, when I get skinny..." you know, I won't wear mini-skirts, I'll still only shop at Marshalls etc. but when I turned 23 the phrase changed to "if I ever decide to lose weight" because from my vantage point it didn't look like it would ever be something I would ever feel ready to do.

But here I am on the other side of 25 pounds feeling... lost. I mean, don't get me wrong, I feel joy and pride too, but I have been fat my entire life, and even when I wasn't so fat, I still thought I was, and so I feel like I am losing, not just weight, but a whole part of my identity. And to buy a coat that is pretty snug with the intention to fit into it, goes against every fiber of my fat kid being, because even after 20 pounds I wonder if something could still go terribly wrong. And to have a coat that I love, a coat that is not just a coat but a physical representation of my hopes for myself... oh the possibilities for disappointment are endless.

So I will do one of two things: 

1) I will return the coat next weekend and rue the day I ever thought I could go against my much ingrained fat kid nature

or 

2) I will keep the coat (with the tags still on) until it either fits or I need the money I spent on it to buy groceries.