Well, today I finally did it. I went into a store, and I walked straight to the women's section. I didn't even pause in the juniors' or misses'. Do you know how long it's taken me to even meander into the women's section? I never have!! And because of my refusal to face reality, all of my jeans have holes worn into the seats. I looked at all these cute little jeans in sizes 0 and 2, and was a little envious. But I didn't fool myself any longer that if I just work out a little longer, I will someday be a size 8 again. I'm a 16. Wow... seeing it in print just seems so... definite. I may maybe eventually someday get down to a 12, and be able to shop in the misses again, but I will never again look at a 5/6 and think to myself, "two more months". It kind of hurt, walking up to the register, and knowing that I had finally succumbed to reality.
You know... when I started this journal, I thought it would be an outlet for all my deepest thoughts. I thought that finally I could get some of the heavy stuff off my chest -- maybe gain some validation, some appreciation, some perspective. And a lot of this I've gained. My friends back me up, or set me straight when I need it. But I'm a little disappointed to find that my deepest darkest secrets consist of the size my butt has grown to, and what word my son learned to say today ("big butt" in case you're wondering).
So I'm facing a reality check on many levels. 1) I am a human being, and a female human being. My body changes and will continue to change, and it will never be the same as when I was 16. 2) I am not the deep, intellectual being I thought I was. I am simply a person with a few simple, and relatively inconsequential, struggles. In the end, my being is not changed by either of these realizations, and perhaps this is what disappoints me. I feel that I have a reached a plateau in self discovery.