Last week I ran into my old dance instructor and instead of a normal greeting like “Natasha how have you been,” all I heard was “Lord, yuh get fat.” Usually, when people commit these verbal crimes, they catch themselves and back track a little, not this one. He continued unfiltered “but yuh had a six-pack and a nice shape when you were dancing“. Ironically, in the middle of his diatribe he tried to convince me to return to his class. Dude, I don’t think so.
I’ve been trying hard not to let his comments take up space in my head but in truth, I was beginning to feel a little self-conscious about my weight (hence no What I Wore photos). To aggravate myself even more, I’ve developed this wicked sweet tooth and I have been keeping it happy with daily offerings of chocolate sprinkled covered soft serve cones from the ice-cream truck that comes up my street every night. To add to that, I have been pigging out on Kings Hawaiian sweet bread since I got back from the Bloggy Boot Camp in Philly last weekend. (People, seriously that bread is so good).
Out of guilt, today I made my way over to MELT Fitness where I ran into Joe Carabase, the owner of MELT. I have a kind of cougar crush on him and when I found out he was leading today’s class, I just wanted to die. So to make a long story short. I worked my ass off in class. I didn’t have a choice, since Joe could only remember the name of one person who was in the class, and that name folks–was my own. Anyways, after I left, I went to Marshalls to find gym gear (now that I know Joe periodically shows up to our classes, I can’t run the risk of running into him wearing these gray sweat pants because, you know, you can see the sweat line….) I didn’t find any new gear that I liked so after that I went to my local super market and bought enough romaine lettuce to serve me for the next two weeks.
I had just sat down on my computer after completing my dinner of romaine lettuce, tomato, avocado (that was the only thing that tasted good) and carrots when I came across these photos of Candice Huffine a fiercely real model who is covering the May 19th issue of Spain’s S Moda magazine. I was like, look at that. She is size 14, happy, sipping on regular coke (not diet) and is naked and on the cover of a major fashion magazine while I am here moping over my size 10 ass and eating rabbit food. Maybe I should move to Spain or better yet, maybe I just need to practice how to respond the next time someone points out something to me that I am self-conscious about or not comfortable with.