I’d rather be naked

a monolouge

So I did it.

I made the purchase.

My head is spinning and I, low key, feel sick because I used my highest interest rate credit card to make the purchase, but it’s done.

And although I do feel guilty… it’s a much better feeling than I would have had not knowing what in the hell I was going to wear or running from store to store the weekend before, with this plus-size body, trying to figure out what I was going to do. Right?!

And it’s not that the dress wasn’t affordable.

I purchased it on a Cyber Monday with 40% off. It was just a few dollars over $100, but to be honest… I am so afraid to spend money directly out of my account for anything other than bills… maybe it’s not affordable… I mean…

It gives me anxiety. I hate looking at my bank account. It makes me sick.

Funny thing is, I use to really enjoy paying bills. Weird, I know, but I loved it! I loved getting paid, paying my bills, seeing what was left over and splurging frivolously. I earned bonuses, I took cash only trips alone, I wasn’t a big saver, but it was good for that moment.

Then I took a pay cut.

A downgrade. A lesser job, less pay. And to be honest, it was more so, that I didn’t want to do “that”.

I signed up for banking hours… and “that” was not “this.” Don’t you love when you have to give a two week notice or vacation requests in advance, but they are free to stretch our hours out of the blue?

I mean, that’s not exactly how it happened, I would be lying if I said it did, but that’s what it felt like.

It felt like they were stealing. My time, my energy, my self esteem.

They started to set goals. Like, goals that we actually had to achieve. Things that we were held accountable for.

Hours during the week were manipulated to make up for opening earlier and closing later. And although I was frustrated, I excelled.

You know, I was one of the top players but at the end of the year, you were at zeroed out. It was nothing personal, it was business. And I had choices… and so did they.

You had three tries to get it right and then they had to make a choice.

…All this to say, I bought a dress.

Still reeling. Still feeling guilty. My body is tense.

Shopping for what to wear has become such a task ever since I gained weight and earned all this bawdy.

You know… I don’t even feel comfortable saying the word. “Plus size.” But it’s not for the reasons you would think. It’s not a moment of embarrassment, even though, for me, it probably should be. This is not the healthyversion of me. I had cake for breaksfast. I eat what I want, when I want, and in excess if it so pleases me to do so. *laughs to herself* I do not have healthy habits. I do usually drink water, but that’s merely to balance the wine. (beat)

I don’t even feel comfortable stating that I am plus size, even though I am.

It’s silly, but to be honest with you, I don’t believe that I am recognized as plus sized. To some people it’s offensive. It’s like– it’s like calling myself “fat” but I wear a size 5 in juniors.

And people don’t think that I notice, but I notice.

I read it.

I see it.

I see the posts.

Not of everyone, but of some.

So in an effort to consider some’s sensitivity to the subject, I kind of openly avoid stating that I am “plus size”… until now. Because there is no denying it. I just made a purchase. Plus sized.

All that to say, I bought a dress.

First, I start by managing my expectations versus my, this reality.

Trust me when I say, her size 16 is not my size 16. Not at all.

I search for dresses I like, make tabs for each option so I can click and compare quickly. And once I have decided on major contenders, I check out the size chart to see if it will even be possible.

…and I’m confused…

It says to measure where my waist bends, but I have rolls so… I kind of bend everywhere.

Size chart, check.

Plus size model, check.

Size available–

“Sign up to be notified for restock.”

This isn’t going to work.

And Lord knows I’ve already waited until the last minute. Plus, I’ll need alterations…

Remove it from my list.

What do I want in a dress? What do I want people to say, what do I want them to feel, what do I want them to whisper?

There are few things I love more than a rumor that makes you stand taller than you actually are.

“Who is she? I haven’t seen her before. Who is she with? What is she doing here?”

I want them to feel… I want them to feel like, “it’s an honor to have met you.”

I mean, is that crazy? (beat) I don’t know if that’s crazy. I don’t think that it’s crazy… I mean with the right outfit…

it’s happened before.

You can be anything to anybody with the right look… except maybe honest.

I want to feel like I have literally helped and inspired people with my look with this “affordable” dress.

With this dress. I want people to look at me and feel like they can do “it” too. Whatever “it” is.

I want them to want to talk to me so I can inspire them to turn their dreams into goals and do it. And with this dress, they will listen.

All that to say… I found a dress.