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Putting A Bag Over My Head Won’t Help

Today I was in a mall with my roommate.  This is something I don’t usually do, walk around malls, shop, giggle.  Because it has been YEARS since I have walked into any store and tried on something that fit.  It has been even longer since the item that fit ALSO happened to be an item I liked. 

But the Barnes and Noble is attached to the mall and I also needed some facial cleanser that I can only get at a department store, so…out into the mall area we went.

This isn’t a story about how I thought something was cute but hesitated because of my size and then in a moment of sheer courage decided to try it on anyway.  This isn’t a story about how I flounced out of the dressing room screeching that the blouse fits and I love it and now I have the perfect shirt to wear to whatever Very Important Occasion.

No.  Instead, this story is about a bathroom in the mall.  A bathroom that has two walls lined with mirrors and how one can see the back of themselves while they wash their hands.

I have back fat.  And side fat.  And back of my neck fat.  I had no idea I looked that hideous from behind.  I’ve taken great care to never look at my rear, see, and now, thanks to the vanity of wafer thin teenagers that demand to check out their asses after they purge their food court choices, I have been slapped across my (probably fat) face with the reflection of my posterior.

I suppose it’s okay.  Good, even.  It’s a blessing that I have seen myself this way.

Because, Internets, that ain’t happening again.  I’ve had a big scoop of reality today that will make it pretty easy to make healthy food choices tomorrow.  Yes, I suppose I can count myself lucky.

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