Self Hating

So as many of you know, I went to a wedding for my oldest bother and his amazing wife last month. I ordered a dress 3 months before that from one of those discount sites. Wish.com. With PLENTY of time for it to ship overseas and get to me to try on and hopefully wear.

Well, I got a message last freaking month at the beginning of the month saying that it was DELAYED! Are you kidding me? Well I had 3 weeks left and all my hopes and dreams of looking cute in that dress still took over. I'd wait. I did tell Hubby promptly and warned him that an anxiety attack was bubbling just below the surface off my tightly controlled emotions. He assured me that he's do whatever I needed and he'd help me look great. I love him. <3

Awesome. I was envisioning a long flowing skirt and simple cute top. That worked. I even told him so.

So weeks tick by, no package from China.

The week of the wedding comes up. My Daddy and step-Momma flew down and stopped in at least once a day. fun times. No dress. Told them about it and my step-Momma got so upset for me! It was adorable. I was focused on keeping calm. I had a back-up plan after all. The plan could be executed the day-before if need be. I was calm. I NEEDED this dress, every time I looked at it I reassured myself, this was THE dress. It was now up in Illinois in the USPS facility, it could get here in time. I ship ALL the time, I knew it. 

Well it came 3 days before the wedding. Daddy happened to have checked the mail and dropped it off. A little manilla package, just like I suspected. THIS WAS IT! I thanked him and kicked him out so I could go try it on. Ripping open the package, it was made pretty much like i suspected it would be. I might have to buy a shift, but it's all good. It was what I expected, quality wise, and material wise. I'm not an idiot, I make Renaissance and fantasy clothing, I know the quality of overseas(China mainly) inexpensive outfits. It was light and flowy just like I wanted for an outdoor summer wedding in Florida.

Then I tried it on.

It slid a tiny bit snugly over my chest as I pulled it on over my head. No worries, my boobs are big. 

Then it was all the way on and I was worried. Looking down at myself, my stomach sank. Did not look right. Whatever, everything looks different looking down at your own body, time to hop infront of the mirror.

Oh no.

Just no. This COULDN'T be happening to me. I CAN'T be looking like this. Nearly in tears I grabbed the belt and trotted off to the the other side of the house to the "workout" room that had a wall with a HUGE mirror. 

IT LOOKED WORSE!

No, I looked worse!

I measured at least twice when ordering this dress, cause I know how much smaller the cloths in China are. I ordered the LARGEST size to accommodate my boobs, knowing I could easily take it in on the waistline if I needed to. This was not right.

Then I thought it: You are not right.

I felt sick at the thought. but the proof was staring back at me in horror from the mirror. The top was too tight, it didn't fit as it should. The little cap sleeves were way to tight, the elastic pressing into my upper arms making them look like someone tried to stuff a watermelon into a tuna can. The waistline was non existent, I looked 8 months pregnant. The belt didn't help at all, hell it barely tied into a knot, forget the big fluffy bow it was suppose to make.

At least it's the right length.

I ripped it off in front of the mirror and stared at my naked body. Criticisms started leaking through. Yes my arms would be toner. okay I can accept that, whatever. But my stomach area...I couldn't accept it. Where was my waistline I use to have? Where is the waistline I have with my pants on? What's wrong with me? I had a YEAR to prepare for this why didn't I work harder? WHY?!?

It started getting harder to breath, and the walls were closing in. I had to get away. Carefully I backed away, out of the room, closing the door behind me. Walking across the house in slipper-clad feet, the storm of loathing began brewing. Going back to the bedroom I rolled up the brilliant green dress that stared mocking-ly at me and threw it in a wad on the bed. Cursed thing.

I donned my jammies and plunked my now loathed fat-ass into the work chair, trying not to cry. I had sculpts to work on. I had to distract myself.

Oh dear gods I needed a cold can of coke.

I posted a small bit of the disaster on FaceBook and not 5 minutes later got a message for my dear sweet Laurie asking me what size I wore, and offering to drive 2 of her dresses to Hubby's work so I could use them. I was in tears. So thoughtful, so amazing, so very amazing. Thank you Laurie.

The next hour was filled with people offering emotional support I didn't even know I needed. Oh how I needed it! I didn't realize until the support came through just how close I had come to falling completely apart. I was so close. So very close. Thank you everyone!!

Hubby called not 20 minutes later, to check and see how my day is going. I told him, simply that the dress was way to small, and we needed to go shopping tomorrow. I told him I needed a can of Coke. I told him how upset I was without touching on the fact that I was so upset at myself. He comforted me, promising to get up early the next day and go shopping with me, and no matter what we'd find something fantastic. He even offered me a can of his disgusting Dr.Pepper. (That was the only soda we had in the house.) He even suggested I take an anxiety pill, the ones we have for long trips and panic attacks. I thanked him. 

Before he hung up he said: "We'll find something, don't worry, you look great naked, and your boobs are awesome. Whatever it takes."

I took the anxiety pill and drank some water, then a shot of pickle juice. Breathing deeply. I'll live. The dress was just too small, your a real person, you are not a tiny little stick anymore, for gods sake! YOU HAVE BOOBS! You love those boobs. You are finally able to walk a bit again. Hell, YOU CLEANED THE ENTIRE FUCKING HOUSE ALONE! Doesn't matter if you could barely walk the next day, you did that! Hubby is going to be honest with you, he always is, if you look bad in something he's gonna tell you. He always does.

By the time he came home, some 7 hours later. I was wrapped in a tissue-paper thin cocoon of knowledge that we'd find something, no matter what. He was sore and exhausted from work, and I offered to go shopping early in the morning alone so he could sleep. He adimently denied it saying he was going with me no matter what time I woke up. 

The next morning came, the DAY OF THE REHEARSAL. Daddy came over to look at his collection and get some things ready to bring up north when he and step-Momma flew back up after the wedding. Hubby and I left. There was 2 hours before the wedding rehearsal and we were Bee-lining it to Ross. There had to be something there, Mom found her outfit there. I didn't know precisely how far away "there" was, but it was in a town about 30 minutes away, we'd get there and back, no problem, right?

WRONG!

It was further away than we realized and took an hour to get there. Just enough time to LITERALLY pull into the parking lot and turn around to leave for the rehearsal. That didn't help at all. But it was open till 10 p.m. the rehearsal started at 5, we'd have time. I just kept telling myself that. I had an anxiety pill in me, forced Hubby to pull over and order a not so wanted first meal at McD's while I pottied, and we were off to the rehearsal!

It was fun. The site was amazing, we had a bit of a tiff trying to find it, and since Hubby like to be to appointments early or at least on time (so do I) we were panicking a bit trying to find the damn place. We were told 5 which translated in Hubby's mind to starting at 5. Well, we pulled in at 5:10 ready to apologize, a bit tense at each other (not mad mind you just tense cause we were being late and I suck at directions, seriously, and he thought I knew the way there. Yeah not so much.) finding that the bride and groom hadn't arrived but were en-route picking up all of our dinner. Heck only a handful of people, including the pastor was there when we pulled in.

The site is BEYOND amazing it's an historic manor house in Florida called Chinsegut Hill Manor House. I felt as if I had been there before, and I had a dream involving this place last year, a very vivid one, but I'd never been here before! Hubby had the same feeling, as if he's lived here before. It gave him chills. 

My step-Momma was astonished how calm I was over the dress situation. I knew causing a scene in any way or getting upset wasn't going to help anything, so I let it slide. Going with the pull of the tides. I got a great big hug from her for that.

Once everything was said and done, we vowed out, ready to make another dash to the fabled Ross before it closed. Once in the car I told him not to worry about it and we'd hit up another store much closer, and failing that Wal-Mart. As we pulled out of the manor's drive and onto it's private road an entire herd of 5-7 deer burst out from the woods in front of us in the car, galloping in their bouncy way, over the road, and bounding over a fence, only to gallop across a HUGE field. We watched in amazement, it was breath-takingly perfect. As he drove us away, I turned and watched the deep gallop across the field as long as I could, they hadn't even made it half-way across into the next wood line before I couldn't see them again. We were driving SLOWLY too.

Back on the main road, we pulled over to Bells, a Florida based-store (I don't know if there's any outside of Florida, but there are a LOT of them down here.) and went inside (I hobbled wishing for one of those little electronic buggies). Kev took command and literally went from section to section pulling dresses from the racks, that he wanted to see me try on. He almost had a heart attack at the price of the first dress ($165.00!!) but had me try it on anyway.

"If it looks perfect on you then we're getting it, it doesn't matter."

Dress, after, dress, after, dress, after jumper thingie; was tried on and quickly discarded. My tissue-paper thin cocoon was tearing. I looked awful! I looked worse than awful! What is wrong with me? Why can't I try harder, why can't ANYTHING look decent on me? Why is my body so awful? Why? Why? Why?

We left the store empty handed, on our way to Wal-Mart to find something ANYTHING that would work, be dressy, and well, just get me through the damned day! 

Plan: Skirt or pants and a cute top

I think we were there for well over a hour, with me trying on and discarding so many pieces. It wasn't right, it didn't look right, and even Hubby agreed. Most importantly he agreed I needed to be happy with my look. 

There was one huge question I had: Why the HELL did I wear this shirt today that would have been PERFECT to pair with a long black skirt tomorrow? Cause I wanted to look nice. Damn me.

After some talking, disguising, and contemplating, we picked up a black pair of pants (cotton, loose, and breezy) and a long black skirt in the same vein. Those 2 items worked. I had a similar shirt in a different colour, I HAD to have SOMETHING in my closet for a shirt, right? If not then I was going shopping in the morning the DAY OF THE WEDDING for a damn top. 

When we got home that night Hubby and I both searched the ENTIRE house for my shirt. To no avail. I tried on every non-t-shirt I had with the pants. Nope. Well fuck it. Seriously, I'll just get up early and find a damned shirt that works with my boobs.

That night I went to bed scared.

I have NEVER hated myself.

I have NEVER hated my body.

I have NEVER felt less of a person.

I have NEVER felt like useless piece of trash.

Today I came damn close. I was shaken to the core, and I had to really think.

• Did I hate myself or am I just upset I don't have something cute to wear?
• Do I actually hate my body or just hated how the cloths looked on it?
• Am I less of a person now that I have a full figure instead of my former pencil thin body?
• I don't think less of larger people, why am I feeling like this about myself?
• Am I useless? Am I really?

I went to sleep with answers.

• I love who I am, what I am, and how I am. Would it be nice if my waist was smaller? Yeah, but whatever. Fuck the clothing! I can (and do) look at myself naked in the mirror and smile, every damn day. I don't dance anymore, and I can move a lot less than I use to. I "traded" in a size 1 for huge boobs that I NEVER thought I'd have and I look AWESOME in a corset.
• I hate the clothing. I've never been one for shopping. I loath it, even at size 1, and let my baby sister shop for me. I now live in jammies pretty much while I work during the day and it's great. I have jeans that I look HOT in and my shirts fit my personality.
• I can't be less of a person. I have become more over the years, physically, emotionally, and mentally. I've gained confidence in public (even though I have a HUGE fear of crowds), I've used my former "life" as a dancer (not a good one), singer, actor, stagehand, and many other things to help shape my life as it is today. Also thanks to modern medicine I'm not a shut-in like I was probably going to become.
• I have friends of all sizes and shapes literally. Hell all my old cloths I gave to my best friend who is a tiny pencil herself that fits in them perfectly. I look at her wearing "my" stuff and feel envy, pride, and a tiny bit of jealousy. (That WAS my favorite pair of jeans, I use to rock those!) Why? Simple cause I use to be that small, but I'm not, and I'm still jelly when she wears my pants cause I miss wearing them! I have friends who are MUCH bigger, than myself and I love them just as much as my best friend. I don't judge them for their size but for their hearts. I don't see size really in friends, but I see my own size. I have to remember to see my own heart too.
• I am NOT useless. I have a Hubby and kitties and they all depend on me in one way or another. I have all of your people also, who usually stalk me for me art, and I LOVE it! 

The next morning I got up early, put on my skirt, packed my "traveling bag", made sure the pants were in it too, got my makeup on. All quietly done, only to turn around and see Hubby sitting up in bed pulling a shirt on, getting ready to go out. He didn't say anything, but his words were never more clear; "You are not alone, I love you, I will not let you go through this alone. I don't care how tired I am you are what's important." I barely held back tears.

As he was dressing a notion came over my mind and I stepped into the closet pulling a shirt of the hanger that I tried on last night with pants, and just didn't work. I owned this shirt for years and have never ever worn it, ever. Stepping out of the walk-in closet Kev looked at me and stopped. 

"You look great! Last night with the pants it didn't look right, but, Nicola, you look great!"

My heart fluttered at the sincerity of his voice. "You sure? It's not as good as you, but good enough for a wedding, good enough to stand next to you? Even with my black sweater?"

"If you want to go shopping we'll go, but you look beautiful, it's just right."

That settled it. Shopping could go fuck itself, we were getting dressed for the wedding, and then going to Publix before the turn-off to the road in the middle of nowhere to grab breakfast. Doughnuts, glazed, fresh from the bakery and a drink. We don't eat them often and it IS a special occasion, and damn it, I felt right in the world again, completely. My Husband thought I looked pretty, and that's all I needed.

I donned my newest prize jewelry set from Lexy, wrapped my ankle in teal tape (which ironically matched my shirt perfectly), grabbed my yellow converse (cause I knew I was gonna need them before the wedding, I'm still very iffy walking and standing), and we were off!

The day was perfect. Ed and Katie were married. Kev took a couple pictures of me (his fave is one I really don't care for, lol, and it isn't posted), and we danced.

I never want to self hate. Ever. This is the closest I have come.

I am me. Still recovering from a bit of a sunburn from the wedding , but I am me and I love me.