Time and again I will meet older women (older indicating 5 to 70 years older than myself) and will have conversations with these women. Inevitably talk will turn to my size. I am not over-weight and due to the fact that I run regularly I do not jiggle too much either. When the talk turns to my weight it will begin as a compliment. Perhaps not always a good-natured compliment, but one never the less.
I would like to interject here that I do not dress like a floozy, flaunting my size. I will admit that I occasionally accentuate nice areas, but overall am a conservative dresser.
Any-hoo, after the initial compliment the conversation ALWAYS moves towards their former bodies. Quips like, "I use to be that size," and, "I think I was thinner than that," etc are stated. First, there is really no good response to these statements, or at least no responses that would allow comfortable social interchange to continue.
Second, the bitches then tell me how I better enjoy it now because I will look like them soon enough. "Oh, wait for your metabolism to stop, then you'll know." I understand that these aging women are insecure about their size and age. Fine. But do they really need to say such things to me?
I find it difficult to believe that these women, who are now twice my size to three times my size, were once my width. I also find it difficult to believe that it must be a forgone conclusion that I too shall meet their girth. The whole thing feels a little catty. And what is more amazing is the sheer number of times this has happened. It has become an expectation for me to hear it every time I come into contact with women that fit this criteria.
I hope that, God-forbid, if the fate these soothsayers have spoken of does plague me, I shall be able to accept my new girth and not feel the need to share with all I meet how thin I used to be.
I now also feel that for having voiced this opinion my weight gain is now inevitable because of the callous nature of this post and its slight leaning on vanity.