I Had to Buy Pants for Fat People And the World Didn't End..

Hi lovelies,

Three weeks ago, I started my nail course in order to become a qualified nail technician. As part of the uniform, I had to go out and buy black professional pants and black shoes.

How I wished I would look in black pants. Source here

I was a little dubious as the last time I wore tailored pants was for school and the reason I stopped wearing them was that I thought they made me look fat. But, I was more excited about looking professional and starting the course than about how I felt 3 years ago. However, when I got to the shops and was perusing the racks, looking for pants that said 'short length', one pair stopped me in my tracks. They said 'short length, wide leg'.

My brain immediately went 'Pants for Fat People, Pants for Fat People! Put those down immediately! You'll get contaminated and ARGH! Run! Run far away! You really need to out them down! NOW!'


Ect. Ect. Ect. Blah Blah Blah. And so on and so forth.

Now, I've spent a lot of time and effort forcing myself to accept and admit that 'fat' does not equal 'bad'. It's taken me a long time to realise that there is nothing wrong with being fat. And indeed, I know longer look at fat people and judge them for their weight. I know longer associate 'fat' with 'lazy', 'unhealthy', 'ugly' and others like that. However, all this is good as long as I myself, do not fall into that category.

Once I'd calmed myself down enough to look through all the pants, I had to accept that, yes, the fat pants probably were going to be the best option for me. (But, I took a regular pair just in case).

After I'd tried them on and determined that there was no way the regular ones were going to fit, I turned to the fat pants. And they too, where very tight. Especially when I sat down. Surely that meant I needed to go up a size. But, then I would be a size 12. And I had never worn size 12 pants in my life. I couldn't go up to a size 12 because I had always been a size 10 or smaller. Always. Always.

Anyway, I had to try the size 12. Thankfully, they were a little too big and when I asked the woman in the changing rooms, she agreed that I should get the size 10. Thankfully. My ED sighed a sigh of relief. It was alright, I was not fat.  I was still a size 10.

Someone who's obviously not bothered my their reflection, unlike me. Source here

It was only later, days later, weeks later, when I realised how distorted my body image really is. In my head, I classify myself as fat. I have accepted this as not necessarily a bad thing, but still, I see myself as fat. Then, last night, as I lay in bed, thinking about this, realised how weird that really is.

I am a size 10. Occasionally a size 8, maybe once or twice a size 12 in shirts (due to my large bust). That's not fat. Most run of the mill clothing stores in Australia only go down to an 8, maybe a 6 if they are an especially large store (ie. Myer). That means I'm wearing the second smallest size. i don't know what size stores go up to, maybe a 20? 24? Either way, it's a lot of sizes above me. The band size on my bra is a 6, which is small, even though my cup size isn't.

Objectively, I'm not fat. I know and I've seen fat people, and while I'm not skinny, I'm not fat either? So why does my brain persist in believing I am?

Source here

As I thought about this, at first I thought it was because of all the weight I've gained as I recover from anorexia. In the last 9 months, I've gained 20kgs. This, according to Baby Centre and Kid Spot, is more than I probably would have gained if I had become pregnant 9 months ago (based on a starting weight of 45kg and a height of 164cm). Realistically, they was no way I could have become pregnant at that weight - I was waaaay too unhealthy - but the point still stands. I thought maybe the weight gain combined with the nasty thought patterns of anorexia (especially during the beginning of recovery) contributed to my feeling of fatness, but then I thought harder. I realised that as long as I can remember, I have thought of myself as fat. I remember my sisters and I teasing each other abut being fat when I was probably no older than 6 or 7. I distinctly remember a time when Opinionated called me fat when we were grocery shopping (she was probably 6-7, making me 8-9) and I, unable to refute her comments because I believed they were true, but also unable to accept that I was fat, told her instead that I was just 'pleasantly plump'. I had chosen this phrase because I had read it the other day in a Peanut Butter and Jelly book and it seemed a nice, soft way of acknowledging somebody's fatness.

I don't know why I think of myself as fat. Maybe because in the culture we live in, thinness is promoted shamelessly and because I was not thin, I classed myself as fat. Maybe all the fat jokes from when I was a child stuck, unconsciously, and now I can't get rid of them. Maybe it's the part of my eating disorder that has always been there, whispering poison into the corners of my mind.

All I know is that I've spent about the the last 9 months trying, and mostly succeeding, to reconcile in my mind that I am fat, and that that is okay, and that people are allowed to be fat. And now, I realise that not only should I have been doing that, but I should have been trying to look at myself objectively as a person. I should have also been trying to challenge the ingrained part of my brain that believes I am fat.

To many, I suppose this may sound a little weird - why would I need to challenge my brain into believing I'm not fat when I'm (mostly) okay with that. For me, I feel the need to be able to look at myself objectively - I need to be able to look at myself and see what others see, not what my messed up brain thinks it sees.

So, here's a couple of pictures of me in my uniform - I apologise in advance for the terrible quality, but I really wanted to get this post up. :)