My friend Alberte walked up to me in church and said, « I’ve been thinking about what I could do to help you lose weight.”
This was not unsolicited, but rather based on conversations we’d had over time. She also has three children who are about four years older than ours, and she only lost her extra weight about three years ago. I think there might be something to be said for the timing of slimness when you’re no longer eating your children’s leftover hotdogs.
“I know what you’re going to say,” I reply with a tired smile.
“No wait, let me finish,” she says. And indeed, I don’t know what she’s going to say. I have no idea what she’s going to say. She’s proposing to take me shopping, along with a couple of other girls who have good fashion sense and who can shop all day (unlike Alberte and myself who can handle about one shop max before heading to Starbucks).
She wants to buy me an outfit. Her theory is that if I feel good about the way I look right now, I’m going to start taking better care of myself, which will lead to everything else I am working and hoping for. There’s no sense at all in waiting to “merit” looking good.
I feel loved and a little bit awed by such display of affection. We set a date.
I’ve been tired lately. That’s perhaps an understatement – I’ve been physically exhausted and emotionally flattened by despair, which has nothing to do with anything. It’s a random emotion that has decided to take up residence. It has kicked off its shoes and is watching tv on my couch. (This despair is clearly not due to a lack of friends).
On a physical level, for the last couple of weeks I’ve been plagued by heart palpitations (I know about the coffee but haven’t consumed more than usual or anything). And when I went grocery shopping I clutched at the shopping cart because I was afraid of fainting. It occurred to me that my iron might be a bit low, but when I got my blood test results back, the level was at 23, within the normal range.
Then again, the normal range is 11 to 300, which seems … wide in terms of range.
Three weeks after my miscarriage my level was at 13 and those three months of taking iron supplements morning and night really only brought my level up 10 points. Such a small degree to bring my body back to normal levels of energy. I think I might also be tired because I expect more out of myself physically now than I did then. I mean, I went hiking in Provence and everything, which I wouldn’t have attempted in January.
On a slightly related note and as catch-up news, I finally went in for my hysteroscopy, which really didn’t hurt just as everyone assured me it wouldn’t – I was surprised. (I was also very relaxed from having taken a little valium-like pill). During the procedure they found some abnormalities so they took a sample and I got to take a picture home of my insides. Oh I uh .. thanks for the momento.
When I went in to the hospital for the final consultation two weeks ago, the doctor said the sample revealed that they didn’t get everything out and that I would need another operation. Apparently there was still a very small part of the placenta attached, which showed that Alistair was not letting go as easily as expected.
Or perhaps it’s me who is not letting go.
After listening to this pronouncement (and deflecting potential emotions by imagining a funny blog post), the doctor came back from speaking with the specialist and said that my body should be able to take care of it without operating because the amount of cells was microscopic. What were they going to remove? There was nothing to remove – it was just a trace. So no further action was required … normally.
But getting back to the fatigue, in an effort to shore up my strength, Sir and I took this month off from engagements. We would stick to the few things that were already set up, but add nothing else for the month of May. This would also give us a chance to catch up on some of the things that needed to be done in house and garden. Of course I kept this little shopping expedition in my agenda, as this was one of those things that was meant to shore me up and it seemed harmless enough.
The three girls took me in hand and sifted through the clothes in a young hip shop I would never dream of stepping into. They asked me what I thought occasionally, but mainly threw things in the basket that they approved of. We showed up at the dressing rooms with 17 items in hand. And that was just the first store.
The very first thing they had me put on was a zebra print sleeveless dress that was shorter in the front and meant to be paired with a large black belt, footless tights and black ballerinas. Zebra is so not my style. Sleeveless is so not my style, but I had promised to keep a very open mind because clearly I know nothing.
They declared it to be a keeper.
And then we spent five hours going to a few shops and trying everything on in them before I was sent home with three shopping bags full of outfits – shorts, tops, shoes, undergarments, dresses, jeans. They scoffed at me when I said I was xx size. No, apparently I was 2 sizes under that, even 3 in that first shop. I’ve been hiding under a curtain of obscurity and large clothing. At home I plopped three shopping bags full of stuff at Sir’s feet, an array of clothing on which I spent nothing, not one cent.
Alberte, having gone through the same process as me (with the same girls helping her out although she paid for all her own stuff), said that she had to force herself to bag up all her old clothes so she wouldn’t be tempted to wear them. I could see her point. My comfy clothes are calling to me and I will have to be bold-hearted and turn my face away.
But the thing is, I feel so exposed. My arms have never been my happiest feature and everything we got exposes them. My stomach has never been my happiest feature, and everything we got molds to my body. It makes me want to crawl under a rock and tuck in all my limbs, if only I could fit.
Let me hide behind my long-sleeved black tee-shirt from H&M!
Let me hide behind my pretty blog with its decade-old wedding picture.
Let me hide behind the words I create, the swirl of little white butterflies in the clearing that mask my face from the sun.
Let me hide behind Alistair.
It’s five in the morning and I can’t sleep. I’m tired from an emotional fatigue that is hard to overcome. I’m overwhelmed at wearing clothes that don’t conceal my body (not like I was ever fooling anyone) and at all the other things in my life that gnaw away at my peace – the foxes that ruin the vineyards, the mice that chew on my floorboards.
Tears drip around my face mask that I have to wear when I sleep because I stop breathing about 300 times a night (apparently), but that makes me feel a little like Darth Vader. How many years has it been since I’ve been able to take my ridiculous self seriously? At least I have this one irony, that I am more at ease in my own skin now that I don’t try to.
But sometimes I have to let myself be led down a path that is less familiar, even if it means exposing my weaknesses and my arms. Sometimes I have to be willing to bare my soul (or my nethers) in order to diagnose the microscopic traces of a former life in order to decide whether some further action will be required to root it out. Sometimes I first have to love myself in order to let the universe love me even if it all makes me feel so exposed.
All this drama. And I’m still on the fence about that zebra print.
Love this. So totally love how you share, so much.
You brave woman. So awesome and encouraging to hear how you are making it through these tough, emotional times. I know it’s hard. So while you are loving yourself, know that we are here for you with so much love for you, arms open wide and all.
I squeal in delight to know that you have a cool new wardrobe. What an amazing set of friends you have.
**Big Hugs**
Thanks for being one of those friends.
I have to admit, I was taken in by your lovely blog and your beautiful photos and your holiday in Provence. I thought you were a lucky, lucky lady and, you are. I also have to say that you are a tough cookie dealing with the foxes and the mice.
I really hope that whatever unwanted “House Guest” you have on your couch, will LEAVE…NOW!
I have had challenges – challenges, trauma, tragedies, deep guttural sadness that no cheery house, husband and kids in France can fix; but I still find that life is absolutely beautiful. Not perfect, but beautiful.
And thank you. Yes – out, out damn despair.
Wow Jen,
What a powerful piece! Thank you for your candidness. It is so true that we often choose to not face the truth about things in our lives. Thank goodness for true friends who are willing to help lift the masks and hold our hands, while we look deep into the face of truth 🙂
Yes! You said it!
Hiding is hard to end as is despair. I hope you find solace in this beautiful and honest post and your wise friends. A little zebra print never hurt anybody.
Thank you dear friend, somehow I feel like you get this.
I know it’s going to sound cheesy, but I’ll go ahead and quote Khalil Gibran (yes, again) anyway: “Beauty is not in the face. Beauty is a light in the heart.”
And my friend, you have that light. Zebra-print sleeveless dresses only serve to enhance it.
You’re a brave, brave soul. And I love that about you.
Thank you for this beautiful comment.
Alison just said what I was thinking so much better than I ever could, so I am just nodding along with her here 🙂
Also, your friend is so wise, you need to feel better about yourself as you are now to be able to feel motivated to work for a goal that is important to you.
And loose clothing, while comfortable and safe, does add pounds, not disguise them. I hope you wear that zebra print!
Okay Stephanie, another vote for the zebra print. You know after all this drama I shall have to wear it!
My dear J:
There are few things in this world that good posture and a good animal print won’t fix.
I kid, but just a little.
A little balm for the soul…
I love you.
And spanx too right?
This was beautiful Jennie! What great friends you have…GOD is showing you how much he loves you. You’re beautiful inside and out, believe that and the confidence will come. We all know you’re a sexy mama waiting to be unleashed! Love you 🙂
Sexy mama (snort). I’m tryin girl!
Love the honesty…and while you are going through a rough time I love that you have good friends to surround you.
Plus I have really funny ladies like you to crack me up and keep me cheerful.
(And I know underneath all that humor and sarcasm is a bleeding heart).
And this post pretty much sums up why every woman in the world needs at least one really good woman friend, and why on some level, most straight men are really lonely at their core, because they don’t have people who can care for them enough to buy them zebra prints.
Having despair eat cheetos on the couch of your soul seems like a logical houseguest, after the winter/spring you’ve had, but baring your arms to the sunlight seems like a way to show the world your strength, and thus, also, to remind yourself of how good it feels to be in the world. Your post is beautiful – and sad – and it reminded me of this post from schmutzie.com, which is filled with wisdom: http://www.schmutzie.com/weblog/2012/5/5/25-things-to-know-and-do-about-self-doubt.html
I haven’t been to visit schmutzie yet but will as soon as I finish replying to comments. My husband was so glad for me that my friends took me in their charge. There is no replacement for girlfriends!
A little animal print will cure all the things.
Kidding but it might make you laugh…
Or rawr…
Wait do zebras rawr?
I’ll have to google it.
Know that you are loved way over here in Canada.
Xoxox
I don’t think zebras say anything at all, but you sure did make me laugh. 🙂
This post. Your words. Your beauty and light. I see you and you’re beautiful. I’ll throw my long H&M top out if you do.
Those are some good friends you have.
Love you. xo
I did think of you Tracy – would Tracy approve of this zebra dress? 😉
What amazing friends to be surrounded by. You always write so honestly and eloquently. I hope you begin to love yourself as much as everyone else does.
Thanks Jessica – I do, I think I do love myself but then out of nowhere a dark cloud comes and kicks me on my butt. grr. Time to kick back.
Zebras are happy, happy animals.
My darling girl, you are so loved. And so very lovely. I will be thrilled to see your real shape in August, the outline of a lovely body carrying a wonderful soul. In black and white stripes.
Oh Dusty, if I thought for a second it would fit you, I might be tempted to bring it along and pawn it off. 😉
I admire your honesty and your courage. It takes a brave woman to bare her soul the way you do here (or your arms in a zebra print dress!), but isn’t it also a little therapeutic? I think despair feeds on loneliness and isolation, and self-doubt only grows when it is hidden away (even if only under layers of clothing). I think you and your friends have the right idea: exposing yourself emotionally here and physically with your new clothes can only help root out that lingering despair.
Now, of course, the next logical step is to post photos of yourself in that fabulous zebra dress. 😉
You’re right, of course. Despair feeds on loneliness. I may go through emotions and low periods but they don’t keep me down for long because I am able to be open with a good support system at hand. May every woman have that one essential thing!
JUST:
“”Sometimes I first have to love myself in order to let the universe love me even if it all makes me feel so exposed.””
Je t’aime
T’es une petite étoile dans le monde. Bisous.
this is such a strong piece, frighteningly honest and real. after having three kids and working through some of the same issues (although many years ago), i can attest to the fact that change does happen if and when you decide it does—and naturally with marvelous friends and family by your side.
Thank you for this encouragement that change does happen.
And yes, having good friends definitely gives an essential boost.
I think that you have the most wonderful friends! Throw that zebra dress on, go out, and have fun!
Cherish those friends. Know that they love you and will always be there for you.
Know that we will always be here for you too.
I’m working up to the zebra dress (am currently wearing a different body-hugging item). 😉
Oh how I love this, you.
The hiding, the need to focus on good in order to actually get to good.
And simply seeing yourself as beautiful and worthy.
Your lovely friends? Are wise. Listen to them.
(I’m here!)
xo
Thanks Galit.
When I started reading your post, my first thought was “uh-oh”– and then I understood what your friend was getting at, and I felt so happy for you! It’s marvelous that you have such people surrounding you. People need to work harder at supporting eachother in general, and it’s nice to see that in action. As for me, I took inspiration from your blog, am tossing Dukan to the curb for now, and am taking this post crash c-section/gallbladerectomy body out in a “does this dress make me look too heavy” outfit put to sushi with my husband on Saturday. Wahoo! Can anybody please babysit for me?
PS I thought that your portarair in Provence was lovely. Really, I did.
I know – that’s the first thought (even though I trusted her implicitly) but what an unexpected help! I’m glad you knocked off and went out for sushi. Be gentle on yourself (says she).
You have such special friends. And this post? Was special too. I’m glad they got the zebra print, but I understand your hesitation. Grief is a process and LIFE is still going on all around you making it hard to experience the grief. Hug.
Thanks Missy.
Friends such as these are keepers for the long haul, zebra stripes and all.
And you and your honesty, and the baring of your soul … what’s a little skin after this …
Lovely …
and spanx … nope, my kidneys like being where they are …
This comment tickled my belly. What’s a little skin after this?
Oh my sweet friend. I’m so happy to hear you have lovely friends near by to take you out and help to lift your spirits.
Good friends, perhaps some time and sunshine..alll will help:)
Oh and as someone who frequently wonders if she will make the nightly news for passing out in a grocery store from a miserable dizzy spell. Stick with those iron pills and maybe throw in some Vitamin B and lots of water! Do you have some low blood pressure too?
Hugs to you. (and sorry for the unsolicited advice!)
No – good advice! I had heard about the B complex so I started on that as well as the iron. Thank you my friend.
I feel as if everything I want to say to you has been said by some friend or another here already…
So.
Let me address this to despair:
Be gone. There is no room for you here any longer.
Because someday I’m going to France and will need a place to stay.
And I’m packing all my sleeveless clothing.
XO
Only if you come with your sleeveless clothing! 🙂
We would have fun!
I’m proud of you!! Can’t wait to join you for fashion shopping!!
To us all those printed zebra, leopard, pyhton …………..sleeveless, hum…….;Soyons fou!!
Okay it’s a deal! (But you’re younger – can get away with so much – not fair!) 😉