This weekend we are visiting my in-laws. So far I've been able to manage my food well (a fruit bowl from Starbucks, a plain, simple turkey sandwich at a coffee shop for lunch) and I've been able to save a bunch of my points for the dinner I know is coming tonight. I went idly browsing at clothes and bought a couple things this morning. My delight was huge at being able to slip into a size 18 pair of jeans at Old Navy and finding that they are loose (normally I wear size 20 at that store). I love clothes browsing when I am losing because I can see my progress in the way the clothes fit.
Last night, however, I was having a clothes crisis. Or rather, I was just panicking. We were packing for our visit this weekend and were in a hurry and I just couldn't seem to find anything to wear. Yes, I have my half of the closet packed full of clothes, some of which fit and much of which doesn't, but it's mostly a perception problem. Anytime I go to see family, I just panic. It's stupid because I know they love me and will love me no matter what I look like, but deep down, I fear their judgement more than anyone's. When I look in the mirror, I see someone else, someone huge and bloated and distorted. Not me. Then I start worrying about what family members see...who they see...can they truly see me under the layers of distortion?
I try to disguise it under a flattering plume of feathers--my best jeans, a loose shirt, bright socks. But somehow everything looked awful on me as I stood before the mirror. Worse than usual. I pulled on outfit after outfit, only to discard the articles of clothing on the floor, the bed, the open dresser drawer, scattered gaudy birds....Upset and teary, despite my husband's reassurances, I finally crammed a couple pants and shirts in the suitcase and zipped it up. Off we went. Despair last night, acceptance today. What a roller coaster ride.