Yes. You heard me. Fat girl problems.
Now, while I have largely overcome my bad habit of criticizing my flaws and constantly putting myself down, that doesn’t mean I can’t indulge in a little self-deprecation in the name of a laugh from time to time; and while it can be hard to find humor in inner thigh chaffing, us fat girls have plenty to laugh about!
Now, I mentioned thigh chaffing. But in case you don’t know what I mean by it, I’m not talking a little redness and discomfort between your thighs because you’ve just run a half-marathon in short shorts… No. I’m talking ridiculously chaffed inner thighs, to the point of blistering all because you decided not to wear your Spanx under your skirt to the grocery store because you didn’t feel like taking the extra 20 minutes to wrestle yourself into them before leaving. And the love/hate relationship I have with Spanx is quite the conundrum. I love how they make me look, they protect me from the nasty chaffing, and, I don’t have to worry about my tummy flopping about should I *gasp* actually have to run for any reason.
Reasons I Might Run:
-Trying to escape burning building
-Trying to run from axe murderer
-Trying to beat someone to the last jar of Nutella
*(Notice I said “trying” because I’m not very fast)
But I hate the fight to get in them. I’m pretty sure trying to put on a pair of Spanx feels a lot like being born, only, instead of slipping through and breathing a sigh of relief, you just stop half way and stay like that for the next 8 hours. The actual process of putting them on is basically my cardio for the week. I start to sweat, my heart rate increases and when I’m done I like to reward my hard work with a shake. While they make me look sexy, there is nothing sexy about getting into them. My husband once innocently came into the room as I was fighting my way into a pair and I’m pretty sure I turned into a combination of Quasimodo and the girl in The Exorcist as I hissed and growled at him to look away. He hasn’t made that mistake again.
As tough of a struggle it is to get into my Spanx, nothing really compares to the feeling of getting out of them, though. What a liberating sensation! It feels like everything just falls back into place (because literally, that’s what’s happening), you get to scratch all those itchy red marks the seams left on you, and then take hot bath after a long day in restrictive shapewear. It’s positively glorious.
But bath time comes along with its own set of issues:
Fat Girl Bath Problems:
– Cold shoulders vs. cold legs
– Bathwater becoming cold behind you because your butt is so wide it creates a dam
– The tidal wave when you try to stand up to get out when bath time is done
*(I say “try” here, because there are times when getting up out of the bath looks more like a wet walrus trying to makes it’s way over a wall)
But once you’ve toweled off, put baby powder between your rolls, dried the bathroom floor of any spillage that may have resulted from the fat girl tsunami, and all is said and done… The reality is, whether we’re fat or skinny, we all have our problems; and I’d rather laugh about mine than cry. I won’t complain that my head just about hits the car roof when I drive because my butt adds an extra 8 inches to my height when I’m in a seated position, or that sometimes my belly honks at people when I’m trying to get out of the car; I won’t complain that my hairdresser told me that me that compared to my body, my head looks like a cantaloupe, and I won’t even complain that when I dance with my husband, and we turn around, he completely disappears behind me, like *poof*, and he’s gone! Nope… Because I like who I am!
I’m a fat girl. I have fat girl problems, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I know how to laugh at myself, I know how giggle at life’s little jests and I will fight you for the last cupcake.