Tight Jeans

Tight Jeans

I always admire a woman with a nice figure in form fitting jeans. I will not define what I think is a “nice” figure because I know this is subjective and very personal. Also, my admiration is not always sexual in nature (usually it is just, “Wow she looks great in those tight jeans”). Yet, I have never thought of myself as looking good in tight jeans.

There are a few reasons for this belief that I don’t look good in jeans that hug my hips and thighs. To begin with I have issues with food and my body, and until recently, I just did not wear tight jeans. When I was in college I finally stopped buying girls’ sizes 12 and 14 jeans and moved on to women’s size zero. However, these did not fit me very snug. Then at some point the size zero jeans must have started hugging me too firmly because I moved up to a size two. These fit comfortably and did not expose any hips or ass. To be honest, my hips have always been non-existent—like a little girl. All that being said, I have always had a little bump of a butt for my size. Yet my weight went up and down and so I would go back and forth between the two sizes.

At 45 years of age I have been very comfortable with the body of a pre-adolescent. Then over the winter I went to the doctor and I weighed in at 114 pounds. Two months later I had to return to the doctor and I knew that I had gained more weight. I refused to get on the scale. The nurse and I argued back and forth until I finally took off my sweater, my long sleeved shirt and my shoes. The nurse was like, “You can take off all your clothes as long as you get on that scale.” I tried to disappear as she gleefully sang out, “120 pounds.” She was very happy. I looked down at myself and felt sick. I decided to stop eating fore a few days—which is not a new MO for me. I got down to 116 pounds and this took effort.

My body and metabolism are changing and I take medication that might be altering the way I burn fat. Regardless, I used to be able to drop five pounds in a week and not feel it. Then I just decided to put away the size zero pants. However, this was too tempting. I would check in on them in their bags and think, “I need to go on a diet.” Finally, I donated them. Now, my body fills out a size two. Shortly before I gave away the tiny pants, I received a gift of several size two skinny jeans. Evidently skinny jeans are back in fashion, but I have never worn them so I hid them in my closet. One day I put on a pair and a long shirt. And this is how I went about wearing these tight fitting jeans. Hiding my new hips, thighs, and plump butt beneath sweaters, tops and coats.

Monday was a warm, sunny day and I pulled on a pair of tight skinny jeans. I picked out a long sleeved black V-neck tee shirt that just hit the top of my waist, slipped on a pair of black flats and headed to work. I walked up to one of my co-workers and said, “Do I look fat?” She laughed and said, “Actually you look really nice. I like your hair.” [I am growing out my relaxer and my hair is shoulder length. I do not want to cut it all of, so I usually just brush it into a ponytail and once in a while I actually blow dry it and flat iron it. And I did this for Easter Sunday, thus I was having a good hair day.] My co-worker said nothing about my body because she knows all about my eating and starving and hiding myself.

Then I took a walk during my workday. I was passing by the Giant food store and looking in the window. I noticed this woman with a nice figure in tight jeans and I thought, “She looks really good in those jeans.” I looked to my right to see whose reflection was in the window and there was no one. Just me. I looked back and I realized I have hips! I have thighs! I have an ass! I look like a woman.

I walked with purpose and ease and smiled at my new grown-up figure. I did a little skip and then laughed at me. This was just a moment. Tomorrow I might look at myself, and runaway from me in my head and spend a day or two not eating. Yet, for a brief interlude, I liked what I saw and I ate and the blackness did not surround me.

This was a bit of light that I found without even looking. I am tucking it away; because I must save up the slivers of sun that happen upon me and stack them so that when the darkness comes I can reach in and touch the stored light. Then one day there will be more light than dark and I will be more than just okay, I will be whole.

Amme Voz


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