Penny for your thoughts...

You wouldn't believe the things that overweight people think.


On new year's eve last year, I sat in front of my sweet boyfriend, as he clutched a diamond engagement ring in his hand and tearfully asking me to be his bride.  I was overwhelmed with happiness and emotion.  He was saying, essentially, "I want to be with you forever, and I love you."  What girl doesn't want to hear that from her beloved?  What girl doesn't dream about someone professing permanent, lifelong partnership and kisses?  In that moment, I had two thoughts:  "I really love this man" and "I hope my finger isn't too fat for that beautiful ring."


I cannot express the relief in my heart when he slipped the ring on my finger without problem.  The fear gone, I went back to enjoying the moment.


These are the secret thoughts of fat people.  We have them all day long, even if we don't realize it.  Here are mine.


I love to travel - I love seeing loved ones, exploring new places, and learning about other cultures.  I often travel for work.  But, when traveling by plane, I hope and pray I'll be sitting next to thin people, so that only one of us (me) spills over onto the armrest.  It's always a bit of a gamble - will the seat belt fit me, or will I have to ask for an extender?  The flight attendants are usually very sympathetic about the extender, and try and slip it to me behind the seat, low, at my lap, so nobody sees.  (I know they're trying to be nice - discreet, even - but the jig is up.  People can see that I'm fat.)


And once I get to where I'm going, I immediately start scanning:  am I walking around this town?  If so, is my hotel uphill?  Where can I get a cab when my feet inevitably start hurting because they're carrying so much weight, they can't take it for long?


When walking around these wonderful places, I always have a camera.  However, I've resisted buying heavy cameras - or carrying heavy anythings in my bag - because I can't take the heavy bag.  (For a photography junkie like me, that's a real sacrifice.)  It's too much strain carrying lots of weight AND a heavy purse.  And you won't catch me wearing a cross-body bag.  I'm usually convinced the strap has no chance of ever being long enough to get all the way around me.

Restaurants are also hard.  There are two enduring themes here:  "What can I eat that won't make me look like I eat too much all the time?" and "Can I fit in that booth?"  (There's no elegant way to get in to the booth when you're fat, either...)  At mealtimes, I'm notorious for spilling food on my shirt during meals.  It's not because I'm messy.  It's because my body is large.  A napkin on my lap makes no sense - the food just hits me in the shirt.


Maybe because of all these things, there are other things we just stop doing.  


We stop crossing our legs.  We get more pedicures, not because we're vain, but because we can't paint our toenails without holding our breath.  


We don't wear bright colors or patterns on our clothes, because at some point, they look silly covering such a large surface area.  (And, black is slimming, right?)  


We don't know what to do with our hands, because our arms don't quite make it across the front of our bodies with the gentle drape of a slender person's limbs.  


We avoid the heat.  We don't even bother to buy shorts or bathing suits after awhile, because we're not going to the places where they get worn.  (Try living in Florida for 18 years as a fat person - it's really difficult not to wear shorts there.  But we do it.)  


We look in catalogs, but only focus on shoes and accessories, because we can't really catalogue shop without making huge mistakes or sending things back.  And when we do find clothes that fit, we buy them in multiples - always dark colors - whether they're flattering or not.  


And after we get engaged, we immediately begin stressing out about wearing a white gown and having all eyes on us for one, short moment.


Because all of this is true for me, I am celebrating the small victories.  This week, I sat in my favorite reading chair to watch a movie with my sweet husband.  Usually, my hips touch both sides of the chair.  This week, there was a little room.  That's a big deal.  But I think the best is yet to come...  


For the Christmas of 2012, we are hoping to have our holiday in Hawaii.  The last time I was there, my luggage got lost and I had to buy some clothes to get me through until it arrived.  Finding plus size clothes in Oahu is pretty difficult - we ended up at Walmart.  I had trouble climbing and exploring around Volcanoes National Park, and felt sweaty all the time.  I hated the idea of a Hawaiian dress, because it was far too bright and WAY too sleeveless.  And sunbathing or playing in the pool was just embarrassing.  


This time, however, I fully expect that I will sit comfortably in a seat with no extender all the way there.  I'll enjoy he beach, and not sweat as much (while standing still) or feel nearly as uncomfortable as I did last time.  I'll eat pineapple and (maybe) poi without spilling it on myself, and I'll dance with my handsome husband on the beach.  His arms will be wrapped around me - further than they have been in the past.  I'll have pretty coral toes (which I painted myself) and a bright Hawaiian dress for the luau.  I'll sparkle with happiness, almost as much as my engagement ring (and wedding band).  And I'll have a whole host of new memories to take the place of those old, fat thoughts.  There just won't be room for them anymore.