Over dinner with some former colleagues (all ridiculously thin) who came to visit last week, I was made painfully aware of the fact that I’m no longer in the league of svelte, sultry young things anymore. The operative words being no longer, because I sometimes still reminisce the days when I was a size 6.
We live in a world where thin people have it easy. Designers create couture with a size 4 in mind, and it just doesn’t look the same when transposed onto a XXXL. You comb through the racks to find a nice top, but once you put it on, it will look decent at best.
Think about it. The seats in public transportation are meant to comfortably fit a thin person. Ever tried sitting next to an obese dude on the subway? You get really acquainted with the extra folds of his bottom as it presses up against yours. Even elevators are biased against corpulent individuals. The sign may say it fits 10 persons but if you look at the maximum weight allowed, it’s 500 kg. Do the math.
I never used to think twice about eating a chocolate fudge brownie with extra vanilla ice-cream, and still manage to pull off wearing a bikini right after. To be sure, I was never skinny, but at least I had some semblance of abdominal muscles and there was ample space between my thighs when I walked (it’s called the thigh test – as long as it doesn’t give you abrasions, you’re fine).
But with 2 consecutive pregnancies, I have since bade a tearful farewell to the thin(ner) version of me. So the colleagues (there’s a reason why they are FORMER colleagues) were having a very stimulating conversation on a new and highly effective slimming product and they managed to come to the conclusion that even that would not work for a case a severe as mine. Thanks, Bhav, good going.
But I’ll postulate that Slimspa can kiss my size 12 bottom because BIG IS BEAUTIFUL. It certainly took a while to get used to lugging an extra 30 kg around and I still get breathless after some brisk walking. But look on the bright side, it’ll give me a chance to form a special bond with my neighbors on the train.
The way I see it, I won’t be a fat chick forever and I’ll get back my figure soon enough. The abs may take a while to make a comeback, but I’m aiming to fit into my old jeans by Christmas. From now till then, I can either feel miserable or take a deep breath, suck in the stomach and enjoy the benefits of being big.
