Yesterday, I bought a size 18 dress for my high school graduation. I worried about acne, making friends in college, and whether I’d ever have a boyfriend.

This morning, I woke up to a size 28 body. Then, I worried about acne, making friends, and whether I’d ever find a husband, and where in the world my 20s went.

In ten years, I have dug the deepest, darkest rut EVER.

When I try to jump out of the rut, my gut, who is the boss of me, grabs me by my waist and slams me back to earth.

When I try to climb out of the rut one leg at a time, the chorus of fat that lives in my thunder thighs swells and shouts, “My name is Charlie! Last name, Horse!” Rather than catch a cramp, I stay cramped, stay put, and in the rut.

When I try to pull myself out of the rut using my upper body, my arms pop out like imitation Barbie dolls’. Unfortunately, instead of bulbous armpit joints, that roundness where my biceps used to be is a concoction a la O’Neal Ron Morris, but instead of Fix-a-Flat, I’ve injected Fix-a-Fry, Fix-a-Plate, and Fix-Myself-Some-Seconds. I know I’m not ready for this jelly.

Yesterday, (the real yesterday, not the decade ago yesterday), I did a jumping jack. It was more like a trampoline jack because when I stopped jumping my rolls kept bouncing. I did a mountain climber that felt more like a ski lift because my butt and thighs avalanched well after both of my feet were firmly on the carpet.


When I look in the mirror, I see a face I don’t recognize, as though time painted tiny cracks in the youth of my face and gravity has been using my chin as uneven bars. There are two chins now (and I had to take out the tweezers on the second one!)

I would like to say that I am a Christian so I am happy, an independent woman so I am content, and an American so I continue to dream, but I feel none of that. I feel adrift. I feel flat, and I feel bitter about feeling like I did everything right and ended up in a place so very wrong.

This blog is about getting back to a place that’s sweet and just being able to wearing a size that  starts with a one.


— Bossy

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