Diary of a Bubble Butt #3

I decided going to buy clothes that fit me better would help me feel better.  I figured it would be similar to the process of setting a broken arm – it sucks, I don’t want to get bigger clothes, but walking around feeling like shit because nothing fits me right is not swell, either.  Sometimes, though, you have to just stop wearing pajamas and put on your big girl pants (or shorts, or dress…)

I went to Old Navy first, and I found tons of adorable dresses.  Everything was 60% off, so I thought I was going to make out like a bandit.  I had armfuls of clothes – dresses and workout clothes.  As I tried on the dresses, the looks ranged from stuffed sausage with spare tire accent to billow-y garbage bag flowing gently among amorphous lumps.  Neither were the summer looks I was striving for.  I ended up so frustrated; I left.

I went to Target.  They had a massive clearance section, and new armfuls were grabbed and taken to the fitting room, and I got to see full mirrored reflections of oddly fitting dresses, but I did find 3 that fit, flattered, and didn’t resemble oddly patterned tablecloths.  Seriously, why are all clothes rocking these bizarre LulaRoe-esque designs anymore? Am I the only one that seriously does not dig looking like I’m wearing the remnants of an elementary school talent show backdrop?!  Then, I tried Walmart, even though I despise Walmart.  No dice.  Between bizarre cuts and patterns, sports bras that seemed to be more interested in showing sweet straps as opposed to supporting my… boobs? I abandoned my cart and left.

My friend called me and said we should go to Kohls.  I was determined to end this misery and get some goddamn clothes.  I combed through the most confusing clearance racks ever – I mean, there truly is no need to match the size on the hanger with the size on the outfit, right? We went into the fitting room, and I treated her to a barrage of what the fuck, because seriously, I don’t know why I can’t find clothes that fit me right.  XL is too big, Large is too small? I walked out in one leopard print/zippered number, and ranted loudly enough for the store to hear me about me looking like a zippered sausage attempting to go to a swingers club.  I also found a lovely blue and white patterned dress that seemed to point the eyes directly to my spare tire, while somehow mottling any reference to my lumps, my lumps, my lovely lady lumps.  I’m sure most women want a dress that hugs the midsection while being lumpy and loose on their chest.  It’s hot.  Ultimately,  I found a few workout clothes and a dress that I liked.  I felt like Frodo coming to Mordor in my quest.

I pushed too far by trying to find a bathing suit, and my frustration level went from “kill me” to nuclear.  WHY can’t bathing suits just match? Like, can’t we just have a top, and a bottom? I finally found one top and one bottom that kind of matched.   “Oh finally, I have a cute pink top…but the bottoms… I could either get shorts that are 3 sizes too big, or a thong 4 sizes too small.  I didn’t think the pink top is actually going to cover my boobs either.  Because, you know, XL size women have A cups and should totally wear princess cut balconette with a demi-cut” or whatever the fuck it is.  I threw down the suits and huffed over to find underwear, because I love underwear.

That’s when my cart started zapping me.  My cart was literally giving me some sort of bizarre, painful electric shock.  I took it as a sign from the universe that my cute dress and workout outfits were unnecessary, and that my struggles were because maybe I just don’t need to get clothes.  I don’t know.  I pushed the cart away and left Kohls.  This is the second store I’ve abandoned, if you are keeping track.

Then, I went to another Target.  This time, I was just looking for sunblock and beach stuff, because I was taking the kids down with my parents for a few days.  I loaded my cart with the necessities, went to self- checkout (because I don’t like people) and reached into my purse to pay.  I realized I didn’t have my wallet.  I was so embarrassed; I had a whole bunch of stuff, and literally no way to pay for it (unless they accept purse trash and tampons).  I left.  I realized I just am not meant to shop right now.  My friend was laughing at me as I’m sitting in my car ranting at my own ineptitude.  She didn’t know about the two prior abandoned carts, so I’m filling her in, and racing out of the parking lot before someone comes out to remind me to finish purchasing my stuff.  This is why we can’t have nice things, I yelled to no one in particular.

Honestly, though, it’s funny the way it all happened.  I feel like I was being sent a message.  When I started writing, it was with a focus of learning/practicing love – genuine love. Love that depends on a certain physique is the very definition of conditional love.  It’s easy to love under optimal conditions, but if things aren’t going your way, etc. withholding love or setting ultimatums really isn’t love.  (Water continues to be wet, FYI) Tearing myself apart every time I look in the reflection, or as I am choking on my meal while I force it back in the toilet is not love. I know that I am beautiful when I believe I am beautiful.  My shoulders come back, my jaw squares and a soft smile rests on my lips.  This is a lovely contrast to my hunched back, as I struggle to look anywhere but someone’s face.  I can rock either of those looks whether I am wearing Grinchmas pants or a cute new dress from Target.

In all my cart abandoning antics, I realized a simple truth I keep missing.  It honestly doesn’t matter if I have a spare tire or if I look like a sausage, because if I treat myself like I am ugly/am ugly to myself, I’m only going to be miserable.  Miserable is a similar look to zipper-y leopard print sausage.  I don’t recommend it.  If I work with my body and my mind, I am already better.  Am I happy with my appearance right now? No, I am not.  Yet, every day is a new day to make better or worse choices.  I read, “The Buddha has said that your karma can change in an instant.  The moment you decide to change it.  No one can understand the vastness of karma, which can extend lifetimes before, nor can anyone understand the ripples that a good choice can make in changing your karma.”  Alan Watts had explained that to truly be whole – to stop living in the pain of duality – you must embrace and love your gods and devils – which exist in the pantheon of your mind, body, and heart.  The only way to overcome your demons is to love them, not hate them.

When I started this, I was vomiting blood.  I may have been happier with my appearance, but I suspect my internal organs weren’t happy with me.  There is nothing worse than fighting with yourself, because no matter the outcome, you lose.  I remember when I first started speaking openly about bulimia, I was so ashamed.  I was ashamed at how fat I was and for what I was doing to myself.  After a year of being honest, I feel as though I have lost weight – a lot of embarrassment and shame.  It’s a coping skill I chose many years ago, and I have only recently (in the grand scheme of things) started to address.  I’m tired of fighting, shaming, and guilting myself.  None of those are love.  What is love is saying, authentically, “I’m struggling with bulimia again.  It’s hard, because every time I want to eat, I feel the urge to vomit, and sometimes I succumb to that.  I’m not allowing myself to feel guilty and let that chain reaction start.  I’m trying to eat less and move more, because water is still wet.”

I suspect, if I can love myself as much as I hate myself, the weight may come off naturally.  Hell, I suspect I’ll find many more benefits than a smaller spare tire.

9 thoughts on “Diary of a Bubble Butt #3

Add yours

  1. I thought you went away. I am following you again. Look out!

    Girl, my Lulu could learn a thing or two from you. I could learn a thing or two from you.

    We recently had the shopping trip from hell. Abandoned carts here too. She no longer fits into anything at Old Navy. Torrid though pricey had some nice stuff. She cried in the fitting rooms as the clerk asks “can I bring you a bigger size”.

    Still just as you say and I quote “It honestly doesn’t matter if I have a spare tire or if I look like a sausage, because if I treat myself like I am ugly/am ugly to myself, I’m only going to be miserable.”

    Everything begins at our thought bubble. You are beautiful my friend! I hope that you never forget that.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Lol – I am like herpes..you think I’m gone, and bam! Hahaha

      I’m sorry for Lulu. It’s this complete tug of War – I don’t want to feel this way about how I look, but I don’t want to look this way! There’s a cute site on Facebook: Stella bee boutique. They have a range of sizes and they’re really cute. Maybe Lulu would find something there!! You and Lulu are beautiful too. We will all get through it. 😊

      Liked by 1 person

    1. :/ I honestly think the sizes make no damn sense anymore. I’m so tired of trying so hard to find something to fit! It seems like it’s another way to body shame/further the feeling of inadequacy among women… I think we all should go back to fig leaves and say fuck it ;P

      Liked by 1 person

      1. ha ha ha , truly ………. I don’t know how it is there, but here we have very few shops for plus sizes. The market is now opening up and I still I can’t walk into any shop and buy clothes. Right now I’m somewhere between an XXL and XXXL. I have just 2 sets of clothes for yoga/gym and another 2 sets for casual stuff. I had to give away most of my XXXXXL clothes as they had gone loose, and I’m dreading going shopping. It demotivates me. So I wear my mom’s clothes and if it fits me or when it fits me I shall go shopping. Sigh …..


  2. Jesus! What an EXCELLENT piece of writing!! Crap, you should enter this into a writing contest. It is so true to the bone and so heartfelt and so sincere, as well as educational, with the sadness thrown in, that exists (although few see or care to notice it), that I believe you should win an award. You’ve articulated exactly how it feels to clothing shop when you hate yourself, and what to do about it. Loved this. Thanks x

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Wow, Deb, thank you. That’s really kind! That was my hope when I started writing about this again – maybe I can help anyone else feel a bit better or less alone. I don’t think I’m as unique or alone as my brain likes to lie haha. Thank you ❤ x


      1. It’s a pleasure treasure, and actually, you DID make me feel less crap when I go shopping. In fact, I hate the way I look so much, that I never try clothes on in shops, EVER! It produces massive panic, sweat and instant bad mood! LOL…so yeah, we have to begin to accept ourselves just as we are and love ourselves. God knows we deserve to and yes, our minds DO lie, all the bloody time! x x


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: