What It Feels Like For A Girl

Since I left Mexico I haven't been able to eat. It's weird. I can count on one hand the amount of times that has happened to me. The first time ever, the most memorable time was when I was falling in love with Brooklyn. It was the summer between 8th Grade and High School. I was humming and daydreaming uncontrollably but could not eat a thing. My mom actually accused me of being in love because of how I was acting. She was spot on; that woman doesn't miss a beat. But of course I denied it.

In the airport in Miami, where we laid-over for a couple of hours en route from Mexico, C and I went to town. We had Burger King and both ordered the Angus Steakburger extra-value meal. She ordered cheese on hers; I ordered bacon on mine. We both 'king' sized with diet cokes and ate every last fry. Before that, in the Cancun airport she bought a chocolate chip muffin and two chocolate chip cookies and I bought a family sized dark chocolate Toblerone at the Duty Free. The cookies were done before we went through security, the Toblerone was nipped into while we were boarding and then eaten in earnest on the flight but not finished. And the muffin was eaten on the that flight, the first leg. After the Burger King in Miami, I needed something sweet and wanted a cafe con leche from the notorious Cuban cafe in the Miami airport with the good coffee. I got that and a guava and cheese empanada. C. was nauseated at that point but I offered her some anyway. I ate my dessert and drank my coffee while we waited in line for security, this time en route to New York. Once we got on the plane, C started to feel better and we devoured the Toblerone. We had a blast. it was reminiscent of AC and I having Ben & Jerry's pint-eating contests in high school.

Since then food has been unappealing. I know I need to eat but the thought of food, all food, makes me nauseaus. I've been getting by on bites here and there before I throw the remaining three quarters of my panini or burger or piece of pumpkin pie or chili in the garbage. Before I went to Mexico I couldn't eat either. The doctor said gaining weight is a good sign. Besides the first couple of weeks, I have done nothing but lose. And the thing is, I like that I am losing weight. Growing up, I always felt like the fat girl. I daydreamed about having some disease that made me lose weight or needing to get my mouth wired shut as a result of some accident but it never happened for me. Eventually, Brooklyn struck again and I lost my baby fat after he cheated on me while we were 'on a break.' Every time I went to take a bite I pictured the two of them having sweaty dirty sex and promptly lost my appetite. I went down to 125 pounds and D's dad asked her if I had an eating disorder. I was flattered. I took advantage of the weight loss and starting to work out in my junior year of college to try and maintain the low weight. In law school I started running and graduated to marathons. As LG said, I was "marathon skinny." I was a 34C in law school, the smallest I've ever been but I never felt skinny. I have never felt anything but 'womanly' by which I mean curvy and soft and voluptuous and I wanted to be angular and petite. Starting in 2002, I gradually gained all the weight back. At first I felt like I was wearing a fat suit. By the end of 2005 I decided to own it; it wasn't going anywhere. Then after getting fired from my job and seeing the light for the first time in forever I decided I wanted to get back down to my 23-year old weight by my 30th birthday. I didn't. But I am not that far away.

I told my doctor about the nausea at my doctor's appointment on Thursday. He prescribed something for it. And I don't want to get it filled. Is that crazy or what? Am I that vain? I guess so. But it feels so nice to be making progress in one area. And it feels so nice when people tell me I look good when I have been so sick. And as a 30-year old, I actually understand that I am losing weight yet finally understand that being 'womanly' does not mean I am fat. I also understand that I will be curvy and womanly no matter how much weight I lose. This time I won't judge myself as fat when I get down to my 23-year old weight (fingers crossed).

Obviously there are other issues at work. I think part of wanting to lose weight for me has been wanting to hide my womanliness, feeling so self-conscious about it. Being called 'Twin Peaks' in 7th grade didn't help. Neither did the fact that most of my close friends growing up were very petite as is my mother. And there I was, all buxom and big, never wanting to wear anything that shows cleavage, or making sure to be super conservative at work and being uncomfortable with my body because it felt like the exaggerated version of everyone else's making me a target of unwanted attention from teenage boys who were more interested in my big chest than they were in me; it was like a novelty for them but I wanted to be the attraction, not my body. And I never felt my outside matched the real me on the inside. The real me is just starting to realize that she can be sexy and smart or sexy and athletic or sexy and strong and that sexy doesn't mean slutty. So until recently, I never felt sexy; I have only felt awkward. I could have been sexy all these years if I had only known that I was and owned it as a strength instead of seeing it as a weakness of mine that needed to be hidden.