For the last two years, everything in my closet has fit or been too big.
I’ve kept the local tailor solvent by bringing so many things to be taken in or altered. It has felt great. Of course the extra 7 lbs I lost a year ago when I had food poisoning was an added bonus.
I joked that the weight gain was lack of sex. It was also most certainly a reduction of the hours I spent in the gym. Whatever it was, I gained that 7 back. No biggie…I knew when my routine returned it would come back off.
But going off the pill has been the tipping point.
This morning I tried on three outfits and they were all too small.
It’s a horrible feeling.
Tomorrow I’m going to a huge VIP party which will be filled with some of the most beautiful people in the whole world, and am supposed to look all fierce and amazing. I’m bringing a friend from high school as my date. I am dreading figuring out what to wear.
Today I resorted to a black dress which always works. I know empirically I still look good. My hair is still long and blonde and curly and my legs are still shapely. You’ve seen my tits. I’m sure nobody else but my most attentive lovers would really notice the extra padding around my middle. Hopefully though, they would be too busy fucking me to notice.
Wait. Oh that’s right. I have no attentive lovers right now. That’s not really fair to Johnny who is extraordinarily attentive. But he’s not here. He can’t put his arms around me or his mouth between my legs. I’m sure if he was here he would put me on a great sexercise regimen. It would help my body and my brain. There’s nothing like sex to make you feel sexy.
And even on that front, I’m not myself. We had a video chat last night (we jokingly refer to them as “date night”) and I lay there, tired and morose, no desire coursing through my veins. I know he would have loved to see me please myself, to cum for and with him, but my mind and body just weren’t in the mood.
I think you all know how rare that is.
[I just got on public transit and two guys are talking about how awesome my high school ex’s band is.]
I’m not sure if I told this story before, but a couple months after my split I went for a dental hygiene appointment and the hygienist asked what changes I’d made in my life, because my gum recession had dramatically improved. I’d made no change other than ending my marriage. She told me that often she sees this when people remove a major stressor from their life…but that usually it’s retirement. Apparently, your mouth really reveals your stress. She congratulated me.
The last time I saw her, the story was the same.
Today I went back. And I’m right back to pre-split.
Now, it could be the hormonal changes, which wreak havoc, as we know. But I don’t think that’s the only thing going on.
It is highly unusual for me to not feel like engaging the world. I have to honour how I’m feeling, and while I’m tempted to just chalk it up to my hormonal changes, I don’t think that’s the only thing going on right now.
This clinical bitch (yeah, that one former reader really kicked me when I was down) is hatching a plan (shock!). I will start to put it into action. Despite comfort in being morose I will not eat food that is deep fried or that qualifies as junk. I’m going to do yoga at least once this weekend. And I will find a way in my new single parent life to get to the gym, at least once next week.
And I will write. My posts will probably be shorter. Perhaps less fun. I’ve been self censoring which is absolutely not my style. But the real test of friends is whether they are there when you need them, right?
I have to start somewhere.