Oh, the Mistakes

I want to start with my visit the other day to Kohl’s. I have always been the type that did not want to show skin. My mother forced me to wear shirts that showed my belly and short shorts, then parade me around or send me on a hiking trip with a man she knew had his eye on me from the time I was 14. This is the reason why I don’t like showing skin; it reminds me of a time that I knew that I had no power over my body and the things that I wore. Now that I am an adult and in control, I choose to be mostly modest.

That being said, I bought a bathing suit that was one piece and had a nice, long skirt so that it didn’t show my V. I was feeling quite dizzy because I had not eaten all day and I am hypoglycemic, so I threw a small candy bar into the mix. The cashier started to mention how she loved how the bathing suit could cover up a “belly” and tuck it in, then she proceeded to comment while pointing at the candy bar, “That’s why we have bellies.”

Bitch, I only thought in my mind but remembered that I’m a nice person, fuck. I then retort, “Actually the reason why I have this,” as I grab at the skin hanging from my torso, “is because I lost 90 pounds and this is extra skin that I CANNOT get rid of.” She then looked sheepish but forgot once again that I am a human being with feelings and started talking about how her friend had lost a lot of weight and that her extra skin was awful too.

She commented on how the extra skin folded over underwear and other garments and made it to where nothing fit into place correctly. Thank you so much for pointing that out in front of the other two male cashiers and any other patron that may be within earshot. I felt like the hunchback of Notre Dame and in my head I saw myself crouching, with my arm over my face and shouting, “Look away! I’m hideous!” That bitch then told me to fill out a survey, rating my visit to Kohl’s and actually said to me, “I trust your visit was beyond satisfactory!” Oh yes, I was abso-fucking-lutely delighted to be put on the spot like and and ridiculed for my choice in food, which by the way is a super rare occurrence.

I cried nearly the whole way home, thinking that all that work that I did, all the hell I went through to lose that weight, was still not enough. I will still never belong to the nice body club, no matter how hard I try. I went to WalMart afterward, you know, to lift my spirits but I did not see anyone that made me feel better about myself, despite the numerous posts I see on Facebook. I did however find some nice movies to watch and immediately put in when I got home, whilst pouring myself some quite generous cocktails.

It got out of hand. I sent a naughty text to someone that I like that I’m certain will never understand me. Perhaps he’s lived a charmed life and forgot that he had mentioned that it might be fun to watch something like that, “might” obviously being the operative word. It wasn’t well received and I’m crushed because it took a lot of courage, much like it took my previously fat ass “courage” to go out in a bathing suit in public; fuck those people that call other women brave, as if they have something to be ashamed of. So now I’m feeling quite neurotic and ashamed and grotesque and I don’t know what to do about it. Obviously trying to feel sexy with the wrong outlet was a bad idea and I’m certain I never want to talk to the person again, so what is it that I do? I’m not about to wallow in my own self-pity because I don’t have time for that shit; I have goals that I need to achieve and depression isn’t on the bill for that.

So do you understand why I wanted to feel sexy? What would you do if it ended up being another blow to your ego? I’m probably going to drink some more Kessler and Pepsi and sing until I cannot sing anymore. Probably not the most healthy outlet but it’s what’s on the agenda tonight based on how I feel. What’s your outlet?

Author: jessicaambateman

I am a survivor of childhood abuse on the verge of speaking out. I have waited my whole life to have the luxury of spilling my guts and blogging is going to become part of that journey.

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