Suck It Up

Since graduating from college, I was probably at my slimmest when I left Manila six months ago. On my last day at work, I weight myself at the clinic and the scale whipped up a beautiful 118 pounds (at 5'6 that's glorious for me). These days, I rely on those bathroom weighing scales on sale at Big W or K-Mart. Since we're practically there every weekend, I pretend I'm shopping for one by painstakingly trying out each brand... I weigh myself over and over again: with shoes, without shoes, normal breathing, holding my breathe, different angle of the scale, waiting for a minute before stepping on again...gah.  Jimmy is usually lost at the tools aisle while for some reason I'm always alone at the scales section (perhaps other customers are avoiding it) so I can do what I do as much as I please with dignity intact. Of course they're not accurate. I never get the exact reading twice but the thing is no matter how many times I do it---whether it's on Weight Watchers, Prospert, Tanita, Soehnle or whatever---my weight doesn't go below 61 kg and that translates to 135 pounds and over. Ugh.

After college graduation, I was at my peak... 140++ pounds. And while I lamented on my weight, family and friends would say "Eh hindi naman halata... kasi matangkad ka" but it was always frustrating not being able to fit in a nice pair of jeans because they don't have it in your size or wearing tight tops and be forced to sit super straight all the time so the bulges wouldn't show. And so it's happening all over again but it's quite easy dismissing it because all I had to do was dump the scales and proceed to nicer, more relaxing and customer-friendly aisles like stockings, make-up or winter stuff. And when I ask J, "Am I fat?" he always says "No, you look great" and I feel relieved until it randomly hits me at some other time that he's probably just avoiding a bitch fit. Or even if he was being honest how can I trust his judgment when we're together every single day for the last six months so most likely he doesn't really notice. Still, nah, dismiss it, it's a lot lot easier.

So I could run away from scales or full-length mirrors but I could no longer run away from my old office clothes (still neatly folded in my balikbayan box along with my other "dalaga" clothes that leave no room for even an extra pound---all have never been touched for half a year) when I start work on Monday.  After finally trying them on (strong emphasis on "trying" or maybe it should be "tugging"), halaaaaa, they don't fit and there's no point staying in denial!!! To top it off, there's no lola around who can adjust the buttons, zippers and seams pronto. No sastre or modista shop a tricycle away that alters for P50.00 per piece. I have two days left to figure out what to do. Clothes are just so expensive here. :(