It happened last night. I just happened to be reading the Wall Street Journal (OK, it was really a Star magazine) while seated, positioned toward a full-length mirror. At some point I looked up, caught a glimpse of the reflection in the mirror, and had what I call my Uh-Oh moment. Oprah has her Aha’s; I have my Uh-Oh’s. This was the moment that I saw an image looking straight at me and thought “Who the Hell IS that?”. This was then followed by “Crap, that’s ME!”
I did not recognize this person in the mirror. There was no way this person could be me. Maybe I’ve been bathing in a huge tub of denial, but this person was too…how can I put this delicately?…ROUND!
Now it may seem strange. After all, I see myself in the mirror everyday, in photographs, during swimsuit season, as I shopped for new jeans just last week, and all those other image-conscious events. But why did my Oh-No moment happen at this particular moment?
The answer? I had never seen myself seated before, at least not since the last 20 pounds came to visit and squatted right smack in my mid-section. I spent the next several minutes playing this silly game where I’d take turns standing, then sitting, then standing again in an effort to figure out how/why body parts seem to spread out, then shift and smash together into this one more compact space. Vertically, I didn’t feel so bad about myself. Not ideal, but not disgusting.
Sitting, however, I resembled a slumped over Buddha. Now I knew I had increased a little in size. The mandatory weigh-in at the doctor’s office makes that perfectly clear. I knew my clothing size had gone up, but I had just convinced myself that I preferred a little roominess. Besides, denim has gotten quite stretchy, and I’ve been apparently using the stretch feature to its full potential. Yes, what started as a mere muffin top has now grown into a full-blown bacon/egg/cheese biscuit.