It’s a Coverup

I just finished reading the book Wonder by R.J. Palacio and let me tell you it was AMAZING! The book just showed up on the suggested books page of my library app and it looked good so I checked it out. And then God spoke to me throughout the entire thing! I laughed, I cried, I felt ashamed, I felt validated, and it all revolved around physical appearance.wonder_cover_art

The main character, Auggie, is a fifth grader who is starting school for the first time (outside of home school). Auggie has a cranial-facial abnormality that caused his face to be severely deformed. Auggie spends a lot of time wishing he had a different face, and as I got to know Auggie as a character, this desire broke my heart. I don’t want to say too much, because I want you to read this book yourself. I want you to fall in love with Auggie for yourself, not out of pity but out of genuine love for who he is as a character.

Auggie used to wear a space helmet everywhere he went to keep people from gasping at the sight of his face. He felt it was so much better for them to think he was weird for wearing a helmet that covered his face than to look at him in fear because of his face. But what Auggie’s father said to him one day, got me thinking about how God thinks about me:

“’Come on, Auggie, please try to understand,’ he continued, putting his hand under my chin and tilting my face toward him. “You were wearing that helmet all the time. And the real, real, real, real truth is: I missed seeing your face, Auggie. I know you don’t always love it, but you have to understand…I love it. I love this face of yours, Auggie, completely and passionately. And it kind of broke my heart that you were always covering it up.’”

What do I cover up that God loves about me? I’m always making excuses for my weight. As if I have to justify myself to others or even protect others from feeling embarrassed or ashamed for me. I know this isn’t the same. I know I don’t have a deformed face, and I know I’m not morbidly obese, but the fact of the matter is, I have become a victim of my body.

I’m still trying to sort this all out in my head. Because part of my weight problem is an over-indulgence issue and part of it is a refusal to accept what God has given me. Could the over-indulgence issue be a symptom of a refusal to accept myself? Just like how Auggie used his space helmet to cover the face he did not want?

In a weird way I think I use my weight and beauty as a way to protect myself from rejection. Stick with me here, I know it’s backwards, but here it is:

I’m scared of what others think of me. I’m scared they will reject the real me: the goofy, silly, clumsy, creative, dancing like a fool and making up songs about nothing, me. I’m scared they will reject the me that has absolutely nothing to do with my body size. Right now if someone rejects me I can blame it on my weight. I can just be like, “Oh I must not look like the right kind of friend” or “my husband doesn’t think I’m pretty because my t-shirt is too small and keeps riding up over the little tire of chub around my belly and it disgusts him.” Just to be clear, these are MY thoughts. I have NO IDEA what anyone else is thinking about me. They probably aren’t even thinking about me at all.

But with these thoughts, I am aware of “why” I’m being rejected. So then I can explain away rejection in my mind and I can apologize to others for my weight. People don’t have to go behind my back and be like, “yea, I’m not her friend because she is fat and ugly.” Because, I “know” it already. But this is not reality! I’ve been living in a false reality and I have absolutely no idea how to get out of it. It’s like, when I don’t let people dislike the real me, I also don’t let people like the real me. When I protect myself from hurt, I rob others from the gift of me.

And if you message me and say, “just accept who you are” or “Jesus loves you the way you are” or “it doesn’t matter what other people think”, you may be speaking truth but you’re wasting your time and mine. It’s not that easy. I’m not writing this in search of compliments, I’ve done that for years, it doesn’t work. I’m not writing this to hear about the latest diet you tried, or the workouts you do, I’ve tried that, it doesn’t work. I’m not trying to be a bitch here, I’m just being honest with you. It doesn’t work because no matter what I try, I’m still the one trying it! I’m the problem and I’m gonna tell you this right now, YOU CANNOT FIX ME. Only God can fix me. Only Jesus can fix me.

Does this brokenness of mine make you uncomfortable? Good. It’s reality. Reality isn’t comfortable. Jesus isn’t needed in comfortable. Please, let me be broken right now, because this is what is driving me towards the only one that can fix me.

I know this sounds harsh, but let me try to explain this in a different way. It’s like when I had a face full of zits back in middle school. I had no idea that the best thing for my face was simply a hot wash cloth to clean it and olive oil to moisturize. My mom had her own skin care regiment that worked for her and so I adopted it as well. Only, I didn’t realize that my skin was different than hers so instead of removing the pimples from my face, I managed to dry out my face and get more pimples! What the heck?

So a friend of mine said, “I know what to do! Here’s some cover-up.” And so I began using foundation and cover-up on my face to mask the zits and give the illusion that I had a clear face. Now, don’t get me wrong, I still use cover-up and foundation for the occasional zit when I’m going out someplace nice, but I don’t use it as a solution anymore. In middle school, cover-up was my daily solution to zits, but the reality was that the cover-up was clogging my pores even more and exacerbating the problem. The more cover-up I used, the more cover-up I needed. When cover-up was my solution I still had a big problem on my face. The cover-up may have given me the illusion of perfection at first, but after a while the bumpiness, redness, and puss of my face could be seen even through the cakiest of cover-up jobs. I had to let go of what I thought was the solution. I had to let go of the fear that my face may become more zitty before it got better. I had to give it time to get better and I had to stop covering up the problem even if that meant people would see my imperfection. So when my imperfect, zitty face made my friend uncomfortable once again and she said, “Hey, here’s some cover-up.”I knew in the long run it wouldn’t fix my problem, and it would actually make it worse, so I was able to resist. But if she were to put it on my face and I saw how it helped my appearance jut the tiniest bit, I know I would feel just a little bit better, and risk starting the cover-up process all over again.

I seek the affirmation and approval of others. Every time you tell me, “but you’re so beautiful” or “what are you talking about? You’re not fat!” or “Just accept yourself for who God created you to be!” It doesn’t actually help me. It covers my brokenness with a thin layer of cover-up. I leave thinking, “Oh, I’m not that bad…” But I’m done being “not that bad” I want to be “radiant!”

I’m done covering up. And I’m done covering-up other people’s imperfections too. I’m going to start searching for the REAL solution and I have a feeling it’s going to look very different from what I’ve been doing.

Awww Manna, I Am Sick of Manna

Exodus 16:32-35

31The house of Israel named it manna, and it was like coriander seed, white, and its taste was like wafers with honey. 32Then Moses said, “This is what the LORD has commanded, ‘Let an omerful of it be kept throughout your generations, that they may see the bread that I fed you in the wilderness, when I brought you out of the land of Egypt.’”33Moses said to Aaron, “Take a jar and put an omerful of manna in it, and place it before the LORD to be kept throughout your generations.” 34As the LORD commanded Moses, so Aaron placed it before the Testimony, to be kept. 35The sons of Israel ate the manna forty years, until they came to an inhabited land; they ate the manna until they came to the border of the land of Canaan.

Whenever I read about the Israelites wandering through the desert I get very self-righteous: “Dudes, just accept the awesome provision God is giving you! You’re in a desert and He is providing you with food, daily! Get over that boredom you have with it. It’s a miracle.” But I always seem to forget that these people have been wandering in a desert for decades!!!! I’m sure the Israelites were done praising God for his miracle of manna and had moved on to asking God to get them out of that stupid desert! I bet it was easy to lose sight of the miracle when the focus became the question: “Why, God, Why??!! If you brought us out of the desert then we would’t NEED the Manna anymore. Why are you keeping us here? Why should we keep following you? This is crap and not what I signed up for.”

I was reading more about the ark of the covenant and stumbled upon this quote from the-tabernacle-place.com  “The pot of manna was an uncomfortable reminder that despite what God had provided for them, the Israelites had rejected Gods provision.”

My first thought, “idiots…”

So of course I had to ask myself the question, “What does God provide me with and what do I reject?”

My answer: “His love.”

I keep having this thought, “If God loved me He would answer my prayers and I would finally be able to lose this weight. I would finally be able to wear high top converses with shorts and like what I saw in the mirror because my calves wouldn’t be ginormous. I would finally be able to wear those cute mid-drift tops with maxi skirts. I would finally be able to wear a bikini and stop worrying that my husband was looking at every other lady on the beach and wishing my body looked like that instead of what it does look like. I would finally be able to wear those slouchy, boxy, comfy tops without looking like I weigh 300lbs. I would finally stop wearing out the thighs of my jeans so quickly and splitting my pants all the time. I would be able to wear leggings in public without feeling like my giant ass was offending everyone, I would be able to drink a beer in front of women who weren’t drinking without feeling like they were thinking, “Oh, that’s why she is the size she is…”and the list goes on and on.

This is ridiculous! I know it’s ridiculous, but I can’t stop feeling this way. It doesn’t matter how many times I repeat the following verses in hopes that it will stick, because my heart isn’t in it. My mind wants to believe, but I just don’t feel it.

Do not let your beauty come from the outside. It should not be the way you comb your hair or the wearing of gold or the wearing of fine clothes. Your beauty should come from the inside. It should come from the heart. This is the kind that lasts. Your beauty should be a gentle and quiet spirit. In God’s sight this is of great worth and no amount of money can buy it.” 1 Peter 3:3-4  Mmmhmmm, ok , but I want to be beautiful in my husband’s sight and my sight and other people’s sight. I want all those people who hurt me to look at me and say, “Oh, I was wrong about her.” 

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.” 2 Corinthians 4:16  But what about my outward appearance? Am I doomed to look like this forever? Uggggggg….

Instead of inspiring me these verses depress me. I know my motivations are wrong. I have had people send me verses about why I should believe I am beautiful the way I am, why I am thinking the wrong way, why I am striving after the wrong things,  and blah blah blah. But I’m blind, I’m blind and I cannot see. I need more than just bible verses and prayer. I need a miracle. It doesn’t matter how much I try to see my beauty if I’m blind. Because no amount of my will can make me see it because I’m blind! I need Jesus. I need Jesus to spit in some mud and smear it on my eyes and say, “Go wash the mud away in the spring” and then miraculously my sight is restored.

 

Results of Dare #1

God called me to fast mirrors a little bit ago, and I’ve been chomping at the bit to get started. I was so ready to have an excuse to stop verbally abusing myself. If I couldn’t see my reflection, then I wouldn’t be able to point out all my flaws, right?

But after God called me to fast mirrors He showed me that this fast would need preparation, which, brought about Dare #1. dare1-post-itUnfortunately, Dare #1 meant looking in the mirror to find out what my thoughts actually were. Here are the results:

  1. How’s the hair looking? Meh, just ok…
  2. Where is that damned little chin whisker I keep feeling? Oh my gosh, where did all these chin hairs come from?! Eeewww, I am literally becoming Chewbacca. BBBBBRRRRRrrrrraaaaaaa
  3. That’s a pimple…that’s another pimple…and another…gotta pop them all!
  4. Woah, remember not to put your head in that position ever again, otherwise people we see that rolly polly double chin of mine.
  5. Can you see my roots? Ick, yup…so bad.
  6. Thank God I got my hair done and no longer have to see my roots!
  7. How does this shirt look? Any stomach lumps? What about back fat? Can you see the outline of my belly button? Yup, to all three…I need to change.
  8. What about these pants? How’s the muffin top? (*My muffin top is all that, whole grain low-fat, I know you want a piece of that, but I just wanna dance!*) Out of control! Woooo, why do you even still own these pants?! Because, when I do finally fit into them I will feel like I accomplished something. What, no longer being fat? I am NOT fat! Well, maybe a little…No, I’m not! That’s not what your husband said. Woah, excuse me, he did NOT say I was fat! Stop taking that conversation out of context! Well, you certainly FELT fat after that conversation… *Nice Imagination Liz walks away from Bully Imagination Liz*

Ouch. I am brutal. I fight dirty and don’t give up. Do you know what the worst part is? In writing down these abusive arguments I have with myself, I remembered something I said to someone in high school. I don’t want to write it down. It’s so mean, and I can’t even believe I would dream of saying that to another human being. But I guess if I can say it to myself, what is stopping me from saying it to someone else? I don’t want to own up to it, but I’m going to. Those words are floating around in the universe and I need to take responsibility for them so that Jesus can cleanse me of it.

I sat with a group of boys and girls at a lunch table in our high school cafeteria. A larger girl (but by no means fat) walked by our table and one of our group pointed out that, “she is way too big to be wearing that outfit.” We all laughed. Then someone pointed out that it looked like she had been crying. Another girl said, “yea, I heard her dance teacher told her she couldn’t continue dancing pointe.” My response….

“Her dance teacher was probably worried she would break her feet trying to hold up her fat ass.”

And we all laughed.

Did she hear? Did someone tell her? Do you know what the worst part is? I don’t even remember specifically who it was.

How could I say something like that? How can I continue to say things like that to myself? Why do I still think those things about other people when I want to love them? How do I stop this? How do I change these thoughts? I don’t want to be a mean girl anymore, even if it is just in my thoughts.

I started searching in my bible for answers, because I know it must be different than what I have been trying. I have tried to be good and nice and loving for years, but clearly those thoughts still exist and they still come out, although maybe not towards others as often as they did in high school, but they still come out towards me on an hourly basis.  I was surprised at how clear God can be through these ancient words. I’ve read these verses a bazillion times, but once again they are coming alive today for what I need now. (I wonder when the greatness of God will stop surprising me – hopefully never.)

Romans 8:5-8 Amplified Bible (AMP)

“5 For those who are living according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh [which gratify the body], but those who are living according to the Spirit, [set their minds on] the things of the Spirit [His will and purpose]. 6 Now the mind of the flesh is death [both now and forever—because it pursues sin]; but the mind of the Spirit is life and peace [the spiritual well-being that comes from walking with God—both now and forever]; 7 the mind of the flesh [with its sinful pursuits] is actively hostile to God. It does not submit itself to God’s law, since it cannot, 8 and those who are in the flesh [living a life that caters to sinful appetites and impulses] cannot please God.”

Okay, so I must be living by the flesh instead of by the spirit. I hold myself to standards of the flesh and thus I hold others to standards of the flesh, but all this does is produce hurt, death, and hostility. So, how do I live by the spirit? How do I let go of my fleshly desires and standards. I have this fear that if I let go of dieting, of calorie counting, of food, of my workout schedule that I’m going to become fat…too fat to love. What if Jesus’ plan for me is to be fat? What if His will for me is to be of average beauty and average or big size so others aren’t intimidated by me? What if? What if my husband dies and I’m alone and ugly and fat and then I’ll be alone forever. What if? What if God created me to be big and my husband rejects me for it. 

How do I let go of those fears when I have no idea what new thing I’m going to be grasping onto? 

 

 

 My Dear child, oh, my beautiful ,radiant daughter, I did not give you a spirit of fear and timidity by of power, love, and self-control (2 Tim 1:7). Do you know who I AM? Do you know my nature? Do you know how I treat my children? Maybe this isn’t about who you fail to be as much as it is about who I AM. You don’t seem to know me, the real me. If you knew Me, you would know that my will is good and perfect. I will not abandon you or harm you. I want what is best for you. You would be letting go of your fears to hold on to My hand, not some unknown thing. Come to Me, Come to know Me, the real Me. You will be amazed at the plans I have for you. 

Hey Jesus,

I’m done trying to be the king of my heart. I’m done trying to take your place. I’m done judging others and myself. I don’t want to fill this heart with more muck and tar and death. I want to keep it clean, I want goodness to ooze from me. I want you to shine through. Since I don’t know how to think good thoughts about me, I’m just going to think about you. I’m going to learn about you. I’m going to dwell on your nature. I’m going to fill myself with you, so maybe someday I’ll see you when I look in the mirror. I love you. I need you. I need you in every moment of everyday.

Amen.

 

WORSHIP WITH ME: “King of my Heart” by Steffany Gretzinger

Truth and Dare #1

God has been calling me to fast for a couple years now. Most of the time I just ignore Him, but when I do listen I’m never  able to do it. It always turns into me hoping to get skinny. I’m not even really sure what the point of fasting is, which is probably why it always turns into being about me. But God has continued to call me to it and when I asked him, “Why? What’s the point? What does it do?” He said, “I’ll show you.”

Great, this is one of those “trust-me-and-I’ll-show-you moments”. Don’t get me wrong, these moments are great for telling people about God’s glory, but when it comes to my life they kind of scare the bejesus out of me. (Am I allowed to say bejesus?)

This past week or so I’ve been chatting with God about fasting, well honestly I have just been throwing countless questions at Him and not waiting for an answer. (I really don’t want to do this fast, maybe if I spew a million questions at Him, He will get confused and leave me alone.)

“As a new mother is it wise to fast? Won’t I just be an angry person?”

“What type of fast? Can I just give up sweets or something? Does it have to be all food?”

“How long does this have to go on?”

“Should I start right now? Should I wait until Jan 1st?”

“Is blogging about my fast counterproductive to a fast since I’m not supposed to grumble and groan about it?”

I’m the type of person who wants to go all out, get it done and over with, and then get a pat on the back and huge round of applause;  but God has been telling me that my way is not always the best way. Apparently a fast is not fast, oh boy, this is confusing…a fast is not quick. There is preparation time involved. I’m not even supposed to start until I have finished reading The Daniel Fast by Susan Gregory. And I’m not allowed to start reading that book until I finish If by Mark Batterson. Who knew God was such a stickler for homework?

The other thing God told me was something I knew, but I was a little scared to voice to Him. Hah, as if He didn’t know already.

“Elizabeth?”

“Yes Father, I’m here. What is it?”

“When you fast, I want you to focus on me.”

“Of course I will! Fasting is for You isn’t it?”

“I don’t want you to get caught up in how you look. I don’t want you to let your body become an idol.”

“God? I’m not sure if I know how to even do that. “

“I know, but that’s what I’m going to teach you. The very first thing I want you to do is fast from any mirror bigger than your hand. This includes checking your reflection in a window.”

“But what about the shopping spree that Dean gave me for Christmas? How will I know if the clothes look good on me?”

“How do you they look on the rack? Do you like them? How do they feel? My dear, your eyes are deceiving you. Your eyes are telling you lies and then you repeat these lies over and over again in your mind. Each time you repeat a lie it deepens a trench in your brain and it becomes easier and easier to believe that lie. When you live by these lies it causes your entire body to sin. You have made your body an idol. I want you to be able to fully enjoy the gift Dean gave you- fully, purely, and without sin. But most of all I want you to fully enjoy the gift that I gave you: your body. Just as you need to prepare for a food fast, you need to prepare for your mirror fast; trust Me in this. Remember, I do not give as the world gives.”

So, in order for me to properly prepare for my Daniel fast, I need to first prepare for a fast from mirrors. Oh boy. I’m not sure how long he wants me to fast from mirrors, but I know it is at least until I finish my Daniel fast. The Daniel fast is 21 days, and I still need to read the book, so at least a month; let’s be honest, I am a snail of a reader, so it will definitely be more like two months. But I’m getting ahead of myself already. I can’t just jump into this mirror fast without preparation.

I don’t know exactly how this is going to work, but I do know I DON’T have to figure that out. God will reveal everything I need in time, I fully trust that. He has done it so many times before. For now, God has given me a little challenge in preparation. If you want to join me this challenge, I’ll be posting weekly “Dares” that we can do together. These dares are designed to stretch ME and are by no means a standard by which YOU need to live. These are simply things God is calling ME to do FOR NOW and I just wanted to invite others to join me.  If you can’t do them all: cool, do what you can; if you only want to try one: awesome, I’ll be supporting you; if you think the dares don’t apply to you and you are in no way compelled to do them: great, consider yourself lucky. But as for me, I will be doing these dares, messing up these dares, failing at these dares, succeeding at the these dares, and learning from these dares.

If you decide to join me in one, two, or all of the dares; I would love to hear how it’s going for you. Comment below; shoot me an email using my contact page; or use #2fat2loveDARE with your pictures on Instagram to let me know what you discover: the good, the bad, and the beautiful. You can also follow me on Instagram @2fat2love

DARE 1

I dare you to start putting words to the thoughts (good and bad) that pass through your mind as you look in the mirror. Write them down as the week goes by, we will use these later.

These are the identity trenches you are digging in your brain. The more you think these thoughts the deeper the trenches get and the easier it is for your thoughts to continue in that pattern. I hate putting words to the negative thoughts because I can easily get caught in a spiral of repeating them, but I need to put words to my thoughts so I can later fight the lies and fortify the truths with scripture (don’t jump ahead, we will add the scripture later).

dare1-post-it

Taking Back What’s Mine

“I’m worried about you: you’ve been putting on weight and overeating. I’m scared you’re going to wake up three years from now and realize you are 300 pounds. I don’t want you to struggle just to run around and play with our kids.”

My husband’s words circled round and round in my head, taunting my heart with every pass. His words were said four months ago, but I was still replaying them in my mind several times a day. When I looked in the mirror and didn’t like what I saw, I would repeat his words over and over,  “You’ve been putting on weight and overeating.”

The truth was, I was putting on weight and overeating. I knew I was overeating. I knew I was using food as a crutch. I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of my husband either. He isn’t a jerk, his timing might not be great, but he isn’t a jerk. He put words to something I already knew; something I was trying to hide from others. His words were the catalyst to this blog- the encouragement to start working through my fat thoughts. It didn’t feel good though. Actually, it sucked. It really sucks when you hear someone you love confront you about your greatest shame. Especially since I had been actively working on body image issues for 3.5 years, and God was just now bringing the food addiction to my attention. I got defensive, I wanted him to see and understand how hard I had been working on this. I wanted him to know how hard it was for me. He didn’t quite understand, and I’m coming to terms with the fact that he may never understand my struggle.

I want to put this out there as well: at no point did my husband say, “if you get fat I will no longer love you” or “I no longer find you attractive” or “you weight gain disgusts me.” I came to those conclusions myself and they are lies!  I don’t want you to read this blog and think this is a fight against my husband, society, and unrealistic expectations. Although that fight is very real, I believe it is a symptom of a greater battle. The real battle is not to get others to see that I’m beautiful and worth loving, the real battle is to see it for myself.

Since that conversation, I had dropped a couple pounds. Just like any other addict, I made a  vow to change so I wouldn’t lose those I loved. But there was a lot wrong with that way of thinking and I’m starting to see it now, four months later. Four months has given me the chance to actually take notice of my thoughts. I don’t have the answers yet, I’m just in the stage of recognition. I’m recognizing that I need help. I’m recognizing how flawed my thoughts are. I’m seeing how these thoughts affect every single area of my life!

If a pair of pants fresh out of the dryer felt tighter that usual as I maneuvered them over my shapely thighs and calves, I would rehash the scariest part of that conversation, “I’m scared you’re going to wake up three years from now and realize you are 300 pounds.”

Even writing those words this very moment has awakened a beast in me, desperate to work out, to stop eating, to try and become model thin, all out of the fear of losing the affection of my husband. I am at war as we speak. My mind and spirit are at war with my body. My mind says, “now is the time to write.” My spirit says, “At this moment, God has asked you to write.” But my body screams, “I can’t get fat! I can’t put on more weight! Already my husband thinks I’m disgusting (he doesn’t) and huge (he doesn’t) and I can’t do any of the things I could when I was working out (why I would need to perform intricate arm balances while raising my baby boy I don’t know…) and if I don’t stop writing right now and go for a run or something I’m going to just keep getting fatter and fatter.” So my mind tells my body, “no!” and guess what my body comes back with?

“Fine then…I’m hungry! I’m so hungry! Feed me something good. Not just this coffee and oatmeal, I want something really good: something sweet and sugary. If I can’t work out then at least let me eat!”

Four months has also given me the time to backslide and gain all that weight back. The fear didn’t wear off, but it just became too much pressure. I have failed too many times, and the guilt was just too much. I was constantly fighting two battles, one where I try not to self medicate with food, and one where I try not to self medicate my food medicated body with extreme exercise. I want to be able to work out because of love for myself, not disgust. The same goes for food. I want to be able to eat healthy because I’m worth it, not because I feel unworthy of eating sweets.

This is going to be quite a war.

I’m desperate to not just jump back into my old way of fighting. This fight can no longer be won with obsessive calorie counting and guilt driven workouts. I was never able to stick to it, and I never loved myself in it anyway. What’s the point of being loved by others if I can’t even receive their love because I don’t think I’m worth their love?

My fight is not to get others to see my worth or to get “society” to stop brainwashing us. My fight is no longer to “fit in”: fit in those pants, fit in that group. My fight is against the lies I have been believing. My fight is not against my brain and body, but in reality, it is a rescue mission! I am going into enemy territory and I am taking back what is mine.

 

WORSHIP WITH ME: “I Am Healed” by River Valley Worship 

“Sickness, you have no power here

Darkness, you have no power here

Chaos, you have no power here

In Jesus’ name!”

Does This Mean I’m Chubby?

You’re not chubby,” a very thin girl with beautifully curly hair said as she greeted me for the first time.

“I’m sorry?”

“No, it’s just that Dean tends to be a chubby chaser and I’m surprised that you’re not chubby.”

“Oh, uh…thanks, yea, but Dean and I are just friends. I have a boyfriend. He invited me to your youth group and it sounded fun so, yea, I’m here…as a friend.”

I wasn’t sure what to do with this conversation as a girl of seventeen; actually, I still don’t know what to do with it. This girl clearly was not trying to hurt me; she just didn’t seem to have a filter, something I also forget to use on a regular basis. No, it wasn’t her words that stung, but something stung. I was actually very flattered that her first thought of me was that I wasn’t chubby. Just months before I had put on, what my mom called, “womanhood weight”: the weight in which I left my girlish figure behind. I now had curves, curves I detested. I could no longer wear those super trendy cargo pants because they were supposed to be slightly baggie and my butt just would not quit. My t-shirts now clung to curves that I hadn’t had before and I missed the boxy shape I had sported the summer prior. So being called, “not chubby” was a huge compliment to me, especially since I didn’t think any of Dean’s past girlfriends were chubby. But somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered, “If Dean typically dates chubby girls then maybe that is why we are just friends, because I’m not chubby enough to be a girlfriend? Oh well, I have a boyfriend, it doesn’t matter.”

But it did matter. And now, 11 years later I can say that I was head over heels crushing on Dean, despite the fact that I had a very nice boyfriend. I wanted to secure Dean’s affections, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to let go of my boyfriend’s. But I knew that IF Dean wanted a chubby girl, I would never let myself become chubby just to gain his affections, I was way too vain for that. So, I was able to push the thought of Dean as a boyfriend out of my head.

I’m going to spoil the Hollywood High School love story and skip to the end, which is really just the beginning, after months of flirting and fighting, Dean and I finally realized it was time for us to give this dating thing a try and we kissed under the stars… And although he made me feel like the most beautiful girl in the whole world, in the back of my mind I wondered, “Does this mean I’m chubby?”

It’s a silly thought really, but if I’m going to write this I’m going to write the full truth, because hey, otherwise what’s the point? This silly little thought was the question that I had been living my life by.

I asked myself that question almost daily, “Does This Mean I’m Chubby?” years before Curly Girl said that I was not. And her words actually gave me some solid ground for a week or two. I remember that week. I took a picture of myself in my bathroom mirror lifting my t shirt slightly and pointing to my belly button. I remember thinking, “I like my belly button.” For a solid week or two I liked who I was, because someone said I wasn’t chubby.