Don’t Get Rid of All Your Fat Pants

I’m going to give you some advice that goes against all other advice you’ve probably heard before. Advice that health-minded people will totally poo-poo (because I totally would have been one of those poo-pooing people before). If you’ve lost weight enough to change pant sizes, don’t get rid of all your fat pants! Save one. Save one pair. One comfy pair. Or, two.

A newer acquisition of desperate proportions. And, I found them for under 25 bucks!

Now, this advice is really only a backup plan. A contingency plan of sorts. If you’re healthy, it isn’t a reason for you to wimp out and gain that weight back because it’s the holidays or Valentine’s Day or Easter, or summer barbeque season or whatever food-eating holiday excuse comes up. If you’ve worked hard and conquered your weight-loss goals and got yourself fit…never give up on that.

That’s where I felt I was just last spring. Healthy and fit. Quite a few years ago now, I had lost extra weight that had slowly crept on. I had finally felt like I was getting in the best shape I had been in since my early 20s. I had kept that weight off because I made a lifestyle change. I was eating healthy and I was exercising regularly. I was getting that six pack on my abs and feeling so great about myself and then…I had my head injury.

I love this meme. Not sure I'm ready for stretchy pants, though.

Every day for the last 9 months, I’ve had to deal with the effects of this concussion. Even small amounts of physical activity cause my head to pound, cause an increase in intensity of my now-constant headaches, and cause nausea or dizziness. I’m having a hard time not looking back at what I used to be able to do. I’m not supposed to compare my hiking ten hours in the White Mountains of New Hampshire or going out for a fun 15 or 20 mile bike ride to what I can do now. On a good day, on a really good day, I can walk about a mile. On flat ground. With lots of breaks. Forget about activity that requires balance or positional changes like biking or yoga.

So, without physical activity, what happens to your body? Um, as we all know from shows like The Biggest Loser, we gain weight. I’m lucky that I haven’t turned to emotional eating on top of all this. I still try to eat as healthy as I can. Part of that is from the lifestyle change I made. I still do yogurt and flax meal most mornings for breakfast. I watch my carbs. I watch my fats. But, without that cardio exercise I had before my injury, I’m finding it difficult to keep the weight off.

Darned comfy GAP jeans. Unfortunately, they are covered in paint.
Most of my jeans have worn out in the right knee. I'm okay with that.

I’m looking at a new twenty extra pounds. Most people look at me and say I look great (I look fine, remember?) But, for me, I don’t feel as great. My abs are losing their definition. My thighs are bigger. My butt is bigger. My boobs are bigger. Okay, so the bigger boobs are fine. My pants are snuggly. Some are way snuggly.

I had made a promise to myself to never gain that weight back that I lost. I promised myself to always be as active as I could. I thought I was invincible in that thinking. I thought I’d maintain that level of fitness that I had achieved and then some. And, if I lost that level, it would be slowly as I got (much) older. Little did I know that something would happen where I had no control and that it would change in an instant.

I’ve made a new plan with my doctor to try to help. It involves setting very small goals of physicality and putting smiley stickers on my calendar when I meet those goals. I’ll have a happy visual that works well in my fluffy bunnies and happy rainbows sort of world.

These are clipped to my calendar. As I meet an exercise goal,
one of these happy little faces gets a new home!

So, here I find myself digging through my closet trying to find pants that give me just a little more room. Especially on those bloaty days when women just need that extra room. But, I don’t have any. Well, except for one pair of “painting pants” that I don’t want to wear out of the ‘hood. So, don’t be like me and give away all your fat pants. And, Jillian Michaels, please don’t kill me for saying that. I just might need to borrow them.

@Ybbeige

http://facebook.com/barbarabeige

www.barbarabeige.com

My Chick Read

Parasitic Twin or New Lesbian Lover? Hard to Tell the Difference

Oh, the zing you get from a new relationship! The pitter patters. The flush in your cheeks. The buzz in your loins. Yea, the sex is downright amazing. Best you’ve ever had. What more could you have asked for?

Sure, she lives four hours away. With tolls, gas and a few Starbucks, it’ll cost you a good hundred bucks just for the drive.

But, she’s worth it. She looked so cute on that dating site when you spotted her earlier in the week. Then after two days of emails and texts and one phone call, you met halfway to meet her cuteness in person. Of course it went well. You couldn’t take your eyes off hers. You wanted nothing more than to kiss those ChapStick lips of hers. And, because it was late and you’d both had a few drinks, you checked into a nearby B&B.

ChapStick is lesbian lipstick.

The roar of the fireplace, the hot tub, the soft sheets and fresh towels made you think you were in paradise. You both called out sick to work on Monday to make it last an extra day because you were just feeling it.

With stars in your eyes, you drove the two hours back to your home with the promise of her driving all the way to your place the following weekend. The next four days couldn’t pass by any slower. You’ve added her as a friend to your Facebook page. You both changed your relationship status to being with the other. You text and sext non-stop during those four days. You call on your way into work and on your way home. Then you talk late into the evening. All the while cooking and eating your dinners together and never hanging up…even to pee.

Then, Date Number 2 comes around. She makes it to your house on Friday evening after work (which she cut out a few hours early from). The passion starts all over again. More mind-blowing sex. Conversations that go until all hours of the night. Tangled bodies. Delivery Thai and pizza because you don’t want to waste any of your time together not being practically naked on top of each other.

You spend the next week talking about how much you have in common and how you’ve never felt this way before. Sexually. Spiritually. Anyway.

At Date Number 3, you’ve been together a whole two weeks. You’re definitely exclusive. No doubt about that. You go into her home. It’s clean like yours. Nag Champa is in the air. It’s okay, because you always burn Nag Champa. The kind in the blue box. Her home is painted in colors similar to yours. She has the same paper lamp from IKEA that you do. And, the same Marilyn Monroe poster. So much in common!

You've tried the gold box and the blue box. You seem to like the blue better.
As do your other lesbian friends. I like to get mine from Leapin Lizards.

As you pull her into you, you notice she’s wearing new GAP jeans. Your favorite brand. And, under those Sexy Boot cuts are Jockey underwear. The same kind you wear. What a coincidence!

Wow, you think. So much in the universe is mashing together. Little do you know, she is wearing her first pair of GAPs and Jockeys. And, she painted her home while talking to you on the phone earlier this week. Her new haircut is similar to yours. She has Yoga Journal and Curve magazines on her coffee table. Just like you.

The best ever lesbian magazine.
www.curvemag.com

She cracks open a bottle of wine. As you sip it together, she gives you a tiny box with a pretty silver band in it. Engraved with both your names on the inside. She has one to match. “Marry Me,” she says as Train’s song plays in the background. A well-timed tune on her iPod which is followed by the Indigo Girls, Brandi Carlile and Catie Curtis. Some of your favorite lesbian artists.

You are swept away. In total love. You talk about what your wedding will be like. You talk about moving in together. Who makes more? Who has the more flexible career who could move? Everything’s okay, you make enough so you can support her while she finds a job in your area.

Date Number 4. She’s back at your place. You actually go out on the town to eat dinner and to show her off. So interesting how you both are wearing North Face jackets. The style is almost identical. You are a match made in heaven.

You know the logo. And, hey, they practically have a rainbow.

Or, are you? Stop. Look closely. Look at everything. Breathe. You are packing the U-Haul in your mind and you have been together less than a month. This is where lesbians can’t distinguish fact from fiction. It is all a blissful reality.

I'll just save you time in getting the U-Haul. Click here.

Your new lesbian lover is your wannabe twin. She wants to be like you. She dresses like you. She decorates like you. She has all the exact same hobbies as you. She loves all the same foods. She’s so ready to move in with you. If you don’t get to know her better before shacking up, you’ll see a side to her that is going to suck you dry. Or, maybe just suck. Emotionally. Financially. Spiritually. Oh, and the chances are the sex will probably become less than stellar. Forget about ever seeing any of your friends who are your exes too. It’ll be too much for her to handle. She’ll be too jealous. And forget about seeing any friends who you may not have dated. You won’t have time. You are her whole life. Why can’t you focus all of your time and attention on her?

So, the question is…Is this your new lesbian lover or your parasitic twin? And the answer is…

www.barbarabeige.com

@Ybbeige

http://facebook.com/barbarabeige
Married Woman Coming Out Story