My Prom Dress

As I write this, I'm wearing my prom dress. I find clothing sizes confusing, as they are different from brand to brand and year to year. Last March, I was wearing a size 20 or a 22. In October, I could wear 16s in most things, the smallest size I'd worn as an adult. Two or three weeks ago, I got a new winter coat. I'd been trying on Extra Larges but I was at an outlet and not everything came in every size. The one I really loved was only in Large, so I tried it on. It was a little snug, but not too, and I'm still losing weight, so I went ahead an bought it. I kind of thought it was a fluke. But this afternoon I went out to take advantage of our crumbling economy via sales at Macy's. It turns out I'm a size 14 now, or a Large in almost everything. I mean, I didn't like everything I tried on, but there wasn't anything that didn't exist in my size. It's an incredible relief and also kind of surreal. I remember that I was a 14 in high school, or maybe that 14 was a little too small for me, but it was always the biggest size -- I didn't know clothing sizes came bigger than 14. And I didn't want anything that fit me properly then anyway -- I was wearing oversize T-shirts and long flowing skirts with elastic waists. I wore men's jeans from thrift stores. So I'm not sure what size I really was and I'm not sure if a 14 then was like a 14 now. But my prom dress was made for me and right this minute, it fits perfectly.

I'm pleased to fit into it. But it's also bringing up stuff I don't want to remember about being a teenager. I thought this size, the size I am now that feels pretty comfortable, was disgusting. I thought I was so fat that everyone was ridiculing me, that no boy could possibly be attracted to me, that I couldn't try to wear flattering clothes because I would look like I wasn't ashamed of my body. And I was supposed to be ashamed of my body. It makes me sad to think that I allowed myself to feel that way, and that no one else tried to make me feel differently. A lot of it came from my mother, who was and is far too concerned with my weight. Some of it came from the usual public places -- fashion magazines, movies and TV shows that not only starred beautiful and thin actresses, but that openly ridiculed overweight women and girls. I lived in Los Angeles, where being thin is valued over almost everything. There was no other voice. I look around now and even though the actresses and models are thinner than ever and we hear about "The Obesity Epidemic" from doctors and journalists and kindergarten teachers, there is also another voice. There is a pretty loud fat acceptance movement. There are so many more places to buy decent and sometimes adorable clothes in bigger sizes -- not enough, mind you, but infinitely more than when I was a teenager. There are women of all sizes blogging about their relationships with food and their bodies. I think if I were seventeen now, or even twelve, I would be finding some of that. I would be hearing more voices, voices that encouraged me and accepted me and told me I was beautiful, I was fine, I was not alone. I wish I could give those voices to my younger self.