Low Class

Hubby and I were conversing the other night about some of the blogs I read. (He is learning to know you all by name – we had a little quiz.) Anyhow, in particular I was telling him about Chris over at A Deliberate Life - specifically the fact that she has broken into a size 8 (go and congratulate her!) I was, of course, lamenting the fact that never in my life do I recall being a size 8, and how I would love to work my way down. His reply was that it would be a constant struggle for me to remain at that size, to which I responded that it would, but my life would just be so much better. He looked at me and, knowing that what was going through my mind was how I would be a better person, equal to those around me, if only I could lose enough weight, said:

“The numbers are there to help you find clothes that fit you; it is not a class system.”

Every once in a while, Hubby says something that really resonates with me (ok, maybe more often than once in a while, but the man has enough self-esteem – I have to keep it in check!) This statement was one of those. After he said the words, it was as though they echoed through the car. I continued to hear them throughout the night, and even now they keep coming back to me.

I have always looked at my size as something that makes me less than others (how is that for irony?), something that is directly linked to my worth. I have always thought that if I could just get skinny, I would be a better person, my life would be happier, and I would think more of myself. Hubby knows this. And he also knows that what I need to hear, and hear often, is that the number on my jeans is not who I am, does not define me, and does not determine where I fit into the world as a person. So as those words continue to echo, I am striving to lock them down in my brain and keep them there, where hopefully I can begin to believe them.