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.
You should always be open and honest with your significant other especially when it comes to feelings of insecurity. Openness will help foster a better understanding between the two of you, and hopefully strengthen your bond. If he really cares about you, he will be totally understanding and completely non-judgmental. I'm glad that you were able to open up, and he was astute enough not to let go of the issue. Many times when we receive enough resistance from a person we pull back or drop the issue. But, dropping the issue never addresses the problem. If more people were unrelenting and couples were compelled talk more, then maybe most relationships would be better off. Thanks so much for sharing that very personal story with us!
ReplyDeleteYou're right Court,
ReplyDeleteI'm so happy that he was persistent because I was very well ready to drop the whole issue. I didn't want to talk about it at all. Well, I guess deep down inside I wanted to share with him what I was feeling... but I just wasn't sure what his reaction was going to be and I was afraid that he might say something that would hurt my feelings. Looking back, I'm glad I told him because it brought us closer together. I feel as though I trust him more now... At least with my feelings.
Thanks for the comment! keep em' coming. I just love having a male's perspective.