Itchy and Bitchy

I have hives. All over my back. No it is not an allergic reaction. They are stress induced and I brought them on myself. Completely.

I have to say in my younger years I didn't give a shit what people thought of me. I spoke my mind freely and passionately. I wore what I wanted. I had a great body. I flaunted it. I wasn't afraid of new situations. I welcomed the challenges.

A few years ago all that changed. I got fat. 3 babies after 30 does that. I became self conscious, anxious and insecure.

I had been quietly coping with this in my own self destructive way. However, a few months ago I joined a moms group. I lurked on the discussion board for weeks before I introduced myself. I avoided the playgroups and skipped moms night out (MNO). Before my first play date I broke out in hives everywhere. I told myself "I have my kids with me if all else fails". How pathetic a grown woman leaning on some preschoolers. But I went and it wasn't bad. I met some nice people and made some new friends. I went a few more times...no hives...despite the fact that I am older and fatter than all the other moms.

The last play date was at the apple orchard. I rearranged my whole schedule so I could go. The other "advanced maternal age" mom was there too. It started out as a good enough time. But wait...these moms are young. Skinny. Cute and fashionable.

(Note here: I happen to LOVE fashion. However fashionable clothes on a fat girl makes you look like a fat girl trying to be cute. I spend my $$$ on my kids clothes. I wear what fits. But I DO KNOW what is in style).

I began to feel anxious again. Really anxious. I had no interaction with the other moms. This was in part because I made no effort. My thought process: They think I'm old, fat and frumpy. Who knows if they thought this or not. I may be all of those things...but I'm also funny, smart and kind. I had hives when I left.

Last night was MNO. I begged Mark to watch the kids. I had to go straight from work in my scrubs. I fussed over my afro and even put on lipstick. I was the only one who showed up. I felt like a middle aged loser. I went home and cried. *Do you hear my tiny violin playing*
Peyton told me he thought I was "cool". I felt better and soothed myself with some Mango ice cream.

Now I know this was not a personal diss. Shit just happens. What I hate is that I let it consume me. What I hate more is I have let my weight change me completely. My weight has stopped me from meeting new people, from taking on new challenges and from living out my dreams. I guess it's time to do something about it.