Evil Clothes

Saturday I'm sitting in a wash bowl seat at the hair salon. My stylist and I are discussing my upcoming surgery. He looks at me and ask, are you ever self-conscious about your weight? He quickly adds, cause you seem to have a Mo'nique attitude. I am taken back that I seem to have it together like that,smile and say thank you. He came back to my chair and lays me back. Washing a woman's hair is, I think, one of the most erotic things you can do with your clothes on. So as he massages my head, I willingly open a piece of my soul to him. I tell him every woman has issues with their weight. He pauses laughs and agrees whole heartedly. I then share that in the past 7 months I've struggled like never before with my weight issues.
It all started with those evil clothes. It may come as a surprise, but my biggest fear of my fat came this year. I've been "desparate", I've been disgusted, I've been at my wits end and willing to sell my very soul to be skinny, but this year was the first time I was ever afraid of my fat and felt that it was more in control of my life than me. Joint pain,the threat of circulartory issues loomed big and I heard about the first case of someone here in my town that died depressed and very morbidly obese. She had child(ren)and I rationalized at least she had been loved by someone. I began to see the possiblity of love in my own life slipping away, except the weirdos who get off on 800lb women unable to leave their beds. Yep they exist. I am always amazed by what makes a person tick, and therefore will talk to anyone about anything at least once. Yes there are men who love them big, but I no more want a man who loves me only for my fat than a rich person wants to be loved only for their money. I was afraid that my fat would attract strange love and deflect real love. I think this fear came from getting close to the last sizes offered in normal stores. I had just a few more jumps before i would be out of Avenue. That just would not be cool. My evil clothes turned against me. They have always supported me, made me look good, come in colors and styles that were flattering. But now they were too tight, too short, unwilling to cover my growing belly and those that were suppose to be short no longer made my fat legs look sexy. Lets not even talk about shoes. Yep the evil clothes got together and did me in. It was more than my psyche could handle, and it was them or me. So I mounted a massive coup, connected with a Liz Claiborne dress (God bless Liz!), got a new job and now the clothes are going down! The unforgiven winter clothes will be the first to go. Then I'll circle back around and attack from the back. By early next year spring and summer colors won't know what hit them. That's right Im taking back control!