I have a good friend who has always struggled with her weight. We worked together for a long time, and over the years I know she has tried different things, but always seemed to reach a point, not quite goal, and then go right back up. She never really was into Weight Watchers, but I noticed she ate pretty healthily. Last year she retired. She and her husband went through a rough patch, so most of last year was really hard on my friend. Nevertheless, during that time, she started with Weight Watchers, started exercising a bit in the gym in her apartment building, and is now doing Pilates, I think, and maybe also something called Jazzercise. I saw her on Saturday, and she’s looking really nice. My friend is a pretty woman, too. I reckon she must be now at about 225 or so. I think at one point she may have topped 300, so this is excellent. We both attended our mutual friend’s daughter’s Bat Mitzvah. It was a wonderful occasion. There are four of us, friends now for a good fifteen years. We used to be five but our dear friend Toni died of breast cancer over five years ago. The four of us don’t see each other much anymore all at the same time, so I really looked forward to the occasion. I dressed in a black dress that I bought 10 years ago for my 20th high school reunion. It’s a nice dress, has squiggles of some sort in a cream colour over the black, and it’s made of that stretchy polyester material that Chico’s outifits are made from. I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s much beloved by plump woman, which seems odd, given that it’s clingy. It drapes nicely on the body, though, if you have enough material. Anyway, I still like the dress. Haven’t bought a new dress since then! I applied my make-up carefully, did my hair, creamed and perfumed myself and felt generally nice.

Here’s my confession - and the dark part of my story. I was a little surprised that my friend was wearing a skirt and top ensemble that was very similar to my dress, although I remember that she has worn this before. Because we are close in height, plump and blonde with similar colouring, I’ve noticed that once or twice, people have mixed us up. A young woman that I was speaking to at the reception remarked, “oh! I saw you dancing earlier!”, and right away I knew it must have been my friend, since I hadn’t danced.

Do you know what? This lodged a little negative thought at the back of my head - people think we’re that alike? I am maybe 40 or 50 lbs less in weight, and I’ve never felt I was in the same league, weight wise, as my friend. Then someone took a photo, and looking at the photo, I see how similar we both are, in fact, I think I look bigger. I felt utterly deflated. I asked Neil about it, and he said, “no, don’t be silly…”, but the thought of us looking the same stayed in my head, making me feel sad and disappointed with myself, and I stopped enjoying the day.

Now really, first of all, how vain and shallow is that? I love my friend, and it seems horrible that I’ve had a “superior” opinion of my looks when it comes weight and shape. But it’s true. I must have. I will say that I’m still happy for my friend’s success, but I’m sad for me. And yes, I know that I could have chosen to smile and be “up” and I probably would have had a good time, and Neil would have had a better time - not that I was sour, I still chatted and so on, but inside I felt lousy. And also, there have been so many times in my life when the way I felt about my weight held me back from enjoying something, and yes, I know that that is wrong, wrong wrong. But there you are. I let it get to me.

Here I sit today at work; I hardly felt it was worth trying when I got ready this morning. I have zero make-up on, I’m wearing stretchy black pants that I hate, and a big top that I bought awhile ago that was a mistake. It makes me feel lousy. Suddenly, I am doubting that I’ll ever make it.

I’m sitting here thinking, sh*t, I’m right back square one, and I will be all day today, tomorrow…..I have to take things down to that “one step at a time” phase again and relearn all the things I thought I knew. Just a tad tired of this.