The Girdle Chronicles: D-Day
It's been a while since I poured my heart out and I guess it's because I've been so busy working, I haven't had a chance to rant. Well, this weekend finally gave me the drive to get back to storytelling - especially since I pretty much lost it in a car ride home from Manhattan.
You see, my hubby and I were attending a surprise party in the city and I was all excited about it. In fact, I had even gone shopping earlier in the day and used a gift card my mother in law had given me for my birthday at White House Black Market to buy something special for the evening. Even though I've been pretty depressed lately about my weight and haven't bought much at my fave stores (WHBM and Ann Taylor), I still managed to find a gorgeous fuschia satiny top with ruffles that I thought really looked amazing.
The moment I arrived home, I raced into my closet and began the excruciating task of attempting to find a pair of pants or a skirt that went with the top. Sadly, practically everything in my closet was too tight and I was stuck wearing my go to black pants that have become a staple in my wardrobe since they have a bit of stretch in them and I'm sure have expanded every time I've gained yet another pound.
When my husband came upstairs to get dressed, I asked him what he thought of my new ruffly top and like any guy who doesn't realize when his wife is pre-menstrual, he replied, "To be honest, I don't really like the ruffles." Well, if you think I went into a tailspin from that comment, you would be correct. I spent the next hour trying on every other top in my wardrobe and couldn't find a thing. And so, I told him I didn't care that he didn't like what I was wearing and stuck to my guns, paired it with my comfy black pants and away we went.
About an hour into the party I walked past a mirror and that's when it happened. I took a look at myself with my ruffly top and stretched out black pants and did not like what I saw at all. My hips and thighs looked huge and while the top did distract you from the size of my lower half, it appeared a little too festive since everyone else in the room was wearing the dress code of a typical NYC party - basic black from head to toe.
Once we left, I pretty much sulked in the car on the way home and my husband kept asking why I was so upset and then I exploded like a madwoman in need of a strait jacket. I poured my heart out - said how upset I was that now that I'm in my 40s and the weight seems to be piling on, I fear I'm going to wind up with the body of my grandmothers (both came from hearty European families and were built like tanks). The tears were streaming down my face and I had to check the glove compartment for a tissue - luckily there were napkins from a recent rest stop run to Burger King (hence the larger posterior).
When we arrived home, I made a decision that it was time to take my body back. And so, it is now Monday, December 6 and I am going to do just that. Despite the fact that the holiday season is in full swing, I am joining Weight Watchers again this Saturday and will be trying out their new Points Plus program that I just read about in the New York Times. If it's good enough for Jennifer Hudson then baby, it's good enough for chubby old me.
I'll keep you posted about my progress and hopefully, by next month, I'll be back in my semi skinny jeans. Either way, I'm making a commitment to lose weight - let's hope it works for good this time around!