Friday, August 13, 2010

Jamaica -Part I

When we stepped off the plane it was magical.
I had been waiting for this trip for more than a year. I had saved and stashed, planed and bargained.
With my BFF at my side, I was finally going on my dream vacation to Jamaica.

The couple weeks prior to the vacation had been a whirlwind. The job was working my nerves and school was just a big fat mess. I needed to flee. I needed to get away.
In my mind, I had pictured how it would be: warm days chilling on the beach with margaritas and pina coladas. Working on my tan. Eating great food. Enjoying the night life and dancing until sweat dripped down my legs. Perfect huh? Well...

The night before flying down I hadn't got a wink of sleep. From trying to pack last minute to finishing up some homework and being ridiculously excited, I'd neglected to get some rest in order to be pumped as soon as I arrived. Nevertheless, I was tired the first night on the Island.

I hadn't seen Kristina in over a year so I was super excited to finally see her. And when we did...it was almost like we were in high school again. Taking silly pictures, gossiping, laughing at our own inside jokes... it was great.

On the way to the hotel, it was a perfect 85 degrees with no clouds in sight. I'd like to tell you what I saw on our ride to the hotel, but 20 minutes into our 2 hour drive, I had fallen asleep.

Upon arrival we were told that the hotel was completely full so they would have to upgrade us to the most expensive sister hotel across the way. "Fine by me" I said, smiling.

Kristina and I changed clothes as soon as we got to our room. We planned to check out the resort and beach and afterward have dinner. I wore a royal blue mini dress by BCBG that had a cut-out back. Is was a little short on me because of my ample behind, but since I was in Jamaica, I decided not to pay any attention to the dimples in my thighs. "Ah... more to love," I thought.

After dinner, the excitement of the day just couldn't compete  with my exhaustion. The traveling accompanied by no sleep had seriously wore me down. Kristina and I had decided to take a nap after dinner and get up around 10pm to go to the local nightclub, Jungle.

When I woke up in the morning, I realized that I has slept the whole night through. I asked Kristina why she didn't wake me up to go out the last night.
"You were snoring the loudest I ever heard you snore" she said. "I've never heard you sound like that ever before so I figured you were just too exhausted and I didn't want to wake you"
I laughed. I was pretty tired that night but I really wanted to go out. I didn't want to waste anymore nights in Jamaica by sleeping.

All refreshed and energized, we spent the day on the beach working on out tans. We did some body surfing, drunk margaritas and pina coladas. And made plans for the rest of our trip, especially finding someplace to go out to that night.

Checking in with the hotel staff, we heard of a party at a local bar. Kristina wore these hot floral tap pants she got from Faith 21 with a lace-racer-back top. I wore a strapless paisley dress with sandals. Normally, I hate having my arms out but since the Jamaican men seem so appreciative of our bodies, I decided to just let go and wear what I wanted.

When we arrived by taxi to the party, we noticed that the bar was more like an outside bar on the beach. There were only a few people inside but perhaps they had a late rush later. Walking up to the ticket station, I told the girl I needed two tickets for Kristina and I.
"That's $60."
"What?!" I asked. I knew she could not be charging us $30 each to get into a party on the beach. I mean, there wasn't even a floor in the bar. It was sand. And this was a third-world country no less. I thought to myself even the swankiest clubs in DC only cost me no more than $20 to get in. And because of this and the hotel staff telling us it was only $10 each, I only brought $40 cash with me to cover us both.
I tried to bargain with her, figuring that it might work. Most people will take a bargain if you ask politely. I tried telling her that we were told $10 each. Finally, I asked to speak with her manager.
"I'm the one in charge and $30 is the entrance fee."

I felt defeated. And annoyed.
Kristina and I started to walk  away and realized that we didn't have a way back to the hotel. We already paid the driver to take us and pick us up from the bar but we told him it'd be at least 2 hrs before we wanted him to come back. We had his number but our cell service didn't work out there. We asked the girl whether she would be able to call  him on our behalf so he could pick us up. She agreed.

We walked toward the main road to wait for our driver. A man came walking down from the ticket station and asked whether we had a way home. Kristina stopped and spoke with him and told him we were fine, just waiting for our driver. I was too busy thinking about what we were going to do for the rest of the night that I didn't even look in his direction.

He asked where we were from and whether we were enjoying ourselves in Jamaica.
"We would be enjoying ourselves a lot more if we were partying with you instead of going back to our hotel" Kristina giggled. "Do you work at the bar?" she asked him. Judging from the way she giggled I figured he must've been attractive. Kristina left no suggestions that she was going to be a "good girl" on this trip. She was going to do whatever and whomever she wanted.

"No, I work with the tourist agency. I put on these parties for the spring breakers who come down here and book their trips with us. I'm so sorry that the girl couldn't let you in but that's how much we charge for spring breakers" he said.

He spoke deeply in a rich accent. It was a mix of British and West Indian. I finally looked up. He was tall and fit with a deep chocolate complexion. Clean shaved with one of the brightest smiles I ever seen. He looked at me and his smile seemed to widen more. It sparkled in the dim light of the evening. No wonder Kristina had been giggling and carrying on. He was hot. Think: How Stella got her Groove Back's Winston Hot.


He asked our names.
"I'm Kristina and this is my sister" Kristina  said. "Whats yours?"
"Bradley" he said, and held out his hand for us to shake.

We stood there for about 20 minutes, Kritsina being her usual sassy and fiery -self  while asking Bradley every personal question she could think of. He found it hilarious and so did I. Kristina and I could tell he was enjoying all the female attention. And while she was so witty, he matched her wit with charm while I stood by and watched them talk, watched his gaze fluttering from me to her.  He was so friendly, I thought.

We told him that we hadn't gotten a chance to party yet so he invited us to the spring-beaker's "booze-cruise" the next day. We told him we'd made plans to go shopping then but we'd take his number down in we decided not to go.

"Well," he smiled, "I can at least give you guys a ride to your hotel, since your driver clearly isn't coming back soon."
We both agreed and he gave us a ride back up the short road to the hotel.

In the car, Kristina was holding no prisoners when it came to Bradley. She told him how attractive he was and how she had been waiting to meet a man like him since she stepped off the plane. Boldness was her fortay. I chuckled in the backseat, my face getting red with a mix of vicarious embarrassment and pure humor.
He just laughed and smiles and told her what a firecracker she was. And boy, did she love to hear that,
We finnaly arrived at the hotel and stepped out the car. He stepped out with us to say good bye.

While we were getting ready to walk into the lobby when Kristina turned towards him and asked "Do you find me attractive?"

I almost tripped up the stairs.

He laughed again "Of course I do! you're a very pretty girl." he said. Then, he aimed his gaze at me, "But your sister... you sister is absolutely gorgeous."

I smiled nervously, said goodbye, and started toward the door. Kristina rolled her eyes and followed me inside.

"This is some bullshit," she said.
I laughed.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Eating When it's Nourishing

My 28 Day Affair didn't last as long as I hoped.
Around Day 8 I really couldn't deal any longer with the starvation and restrictions.
I gave up and started eating.
Whatever weight I lost in the first 8 days I certainly gained back in the week thereafter.

So right now, I'm honestly still feeling uncomfortable with myself.
However,  I decided to take a step back and look at some of the issues I've been having with my weight, namely food.
When I think about it, I've never had a problem losing weight. It's the "keeping it off" and "not gaining weight" that I've always have a problem with. And that's because I eat too much.
I eat when I'm happy, when I'm bored, when I'm lonely, when I'm upset. Hell, I even eat for entertainment.

I've stopped trying to be angry at myself for this behavior. And I've stopped trying to beat myself up about it.
No more feeling guilty. No more pity.
It's occurred to be that I had higher self esteem before I started dieting and for me dieting and self-loathing seem to go hand-in-hand.

I'm thinking that I need to just accept me as I am. Inside it feels like I'm giving up. I feel like  I'll be a loser if I give up now.
But staying in a war with myself in which my self-identity suffers is just not a war I can win.

So, In the next few weeks I'm going to concentrate on accepting me how I am now.
Accept the bigness about me. The heaviness. The roundness.
The stomach and the arms. The face.
Feel my feelings without trying to numb myself with food.

Ask myself why I eat when I'm not hungry and realize what I'm doing before I start.
Quit dieting.

Hopefully, I'll be able to figure all this stuff out with me, about me when I'm able to feel and notice whats going on instead of ignoring everything.

And I've got to trust that acceptance, truth, and understanding will lead me down the path of my normal weight when I can start eating only when it's nourishing.

Friday, August 6, 2010

Big Girls Only in the Winter

"I like big girls," he said laughing. "But only in the winter".
I was still at Stacy's party, standing in the living room talking to Stacy's friend, Derrick. Derrick was explaining to me why his new girl was so tiny. As a 6'3', 230 lb+ man, I had asked him why he wasn't with a bigger girl.
"That's f*cked-up" I said laughing because it was kinda funny. I mean, I love big men personally, but I know a lot of phat girls (and boys) don't like to be with other big people. As Kristina explained to me awhile back, "TWO big people together is just TOO much."

Derrick continued, "I mean in the summer, she's hot, I'm hot--we're both sweating? No, It ain't a good look".
I saw his point but rolled my eyes anyway.
Derrick was a good friend of Stacy's and a regular at the boys' house parties/get-togethers. He was a big guy and really cute, funny as hell and sometimes brutally honest.
"I mean, there are rules if you're gonna be with a big girl. For one, she gotta have a pretty face."

The boys on the couch, Brian, and Joey,  chimed in, "Yeah, she gotta have body too. And a shape... it just can't be all fat falling over the place"
I looked away and started feeling a little self-conscience.  Weren't they aware that they were little talking about me, a big girl,  while I was in the same room?

Joey was particularly insistent. He added, "If I talk to a big girl, she's got to be pretty and have a good shape---even if she is a little fat. But it's cool because everyone knows a big girl will do more stuff than a little girl."
I figured 'more stuff' eluded to the sexual department.
"That's not true," I snapped, but all the boys nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, they will," Derrick said. "We've all had our fair share of the nasty big girls."

I went to go sit down and thought about what they were saying. Clearly they were stipulations involved if a man was  to be with a "big girl" or in my case, a "phatty". I thought about those few times in the past when Joey ( a verified male-whore) tried to get my number. One time, he even asked me out right if we could sleep together. Now, Joey was cute and everything but there's very little a man can say to me that can get passed my natural suspicion. After I told him "no" and walked away, Joey had gotten better at being more respectful and we were able to have a few chats without him saying something blatantly inappropriate. But this time I wondered if Joey only tried talking to me in the past because I was  pretty with a nice shape albeit a little fat or if he just wanted a rendezvous with a "nasty big girl". It made me wonder if phatties get an unfair share of jerks because of these stipulations.

The guys continued to talk about women and I took the opportunity to ask some random questions I had about the male perspective. I started with Joey; knowing he had slept with his fair share of single (and not-so-single) DC women, I asked him if there was anybody he'd consider being serious with.
"Yeah, I have someone I'm serious with right now."
"Oh , you have a girlfriend?" I was surprised.
"Well, she thinks she's my girlfriend and she's gorgeous."
"What do you mean 'She thinks she's your girlfriend'?"
He went on to explain that although he tells her that they're an item, he goes out with and sleeps with any other girls he desires. He claims he can't be monogamous but it is OK as long as he doesn't get caught.
" Why be in a relationship if you know you want to sleep with other women?" I asked.
"Because I don't want her to sleep with any other man."
The boys laughed.


That's when I realized that you can be phat, skinny, pretty, ugly, and everything in between and it'll have no effect on the way some men will treat you. Bad guys will be bad and good guys will be good. So, a phatty can meet all kinds of jerks while trying to find the one, but I'm sure a skinny gal can meet the same jerks along the way too.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

I Split My Pants - Part II

I told him how I ripped my pants and had to call Quinci. How I was just tired of feeling uncomfortable and awkward and most of all about how I was tired of my weight and this pants malfunction had made me even more frustrated.

"Well, do you want to lose weight?" he asked
"Yes."
"Do you want me to help you?"
"No." The last thing I needed was him to be giving me dirty looks if I popped a cookie in my mouth or went hard into some ice cream.
I added, " And please don't bring this up again unless I bring it up first" I could imagine how upset it would make me if he periodically asked me how's my diet going, whether I went to the gym, or how many pounds I've lost/gained. I shuddered at the thought.
"You're fine, Winnie, You're fine" he kept repeating. " I love you and you're beautiful".
When he said that I finally started to feel better.
"You know you've got to tell me these things" he smiled, "I thought it was something serious."

We talked for a few more minutes and I asked him if I could have a moment to get myself together. He left the room and told me he'd send Quinci down as soon as she arrived.

When she got there I told her about what happened and she gave me the leggings.
"I don't know why you do this to yourself" she said " you're so pretty, you could be a plus size model,"

But I'm not a model I thought. And I never said I was ugly. Sometimes, people just don't understand. That's why I hate to bring it up in the first place.

Stacy came in and checked on us a few times and I thought it was so sweet. He really was concerned. We ended up going upstairs later to join the rest of the party but since it was still early, there was only a few people on the porch and the patio. While Quinci went outside to say hello to everyone, I  peeped the kitchen for something to eat. I knew that it was Day 6 but I was just so hungry and keeping this hunger strike during an emotional episode was just too much. I saw a cake of brownies on the counter, I cut me a piece, and went to sit on the couch.
As I was enjoying my little brownie, Stacy walked in and asked me if I was fine. Realizing that I just told this man I want to lose weight I couldn't have him see me eating a brownie, So I put it by my side, shook my head and smiled--- my mouth full of chocolatey goop.

He smiled back on his way outside and I finished eating. I thought about what just happened and how we crossed a major bridge in our relationship.

A wall had just came down. I had never, ever, ever told a man that I wanted to lose weight. And certainly never cried in his arms about it.

Oh, boy... Stacy was wearing those walls out.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Day 8: I Split my Pants - Part I

I was hoping, since it was Day 6 that I'd be able to wear my favorite jeans. Granted, they were still too tight, and weren't infused with the comfortable stretch like my other jeans, but I didnt really have anything else to wear (hadn't washed clothes in weeks). So I put on my spanx and hope they'd take care of the muffin top and kept it moving. When I hopped in Stacy's car I immediately felt something rip. Where and how bad, I wasn't really sure but I was praying that it was something I could hide. Stacy's house parties always made me nervous about my appearance so I was literally panicking inside. When we got out the car, I kept my backside  away from him, just in case the rip was worst than I hoped. We walked in the house and I made a bee line to the bathroom. Low and behold: I had split my jeans down the crack of my ass and my spanx underneath were staring back at me. Thank God I didn't wear a thong.  That little comfort unfortunately wasn't enough because I was starting to have a breakdown. I went to Stacy's room and sat down. I called Quinci (who lived a couple blocks away) and asked her to come asap. "Oh, and bring a pair of leggings too"  I told her, because those would be the only things I could fit from Quinci's closet.

I dont know why I just didnt wear leggings to begin with. I started to cry because I was so tired of being fat. I mean, the day before I was walking home from work and this girl came hoping down the stairs from her apartment and she was so cute. Tiny little thing wearing little shorts and a tank top. Not really what I'd consider a cute outfit but it looked cute on her since she was so tiny and fit. Just the look of that girl made me drop a couple tears behind my summer shades because it was hot as hell outside and I couldn't step out the house with shorts and/or a tank top no matter how hot I was.
So being frustrated with my favorite jeans ripping, my ass seemingly not getting smaller despite not eating for days, and just the embarrassment of it, I cried.


When Stacy came in, I wasn't crying but my eyes were still red. He asked me if I was OK. I had thought about telling him everything that had been on my mind... from the weight to my insecurities, but  it all just sounded crazy. And to tell this man I just split my pants? Aww, hell no. I told him I was fine.

"What's wrong? you're making me scared" he sat down.
"Nothing, I don't want to talk about it." I said. I didn't look at him.

We went back and forth for about 10 minutes and he just wasn't letting it go. So slowly, I begin to tell him what happened and started crying again.

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