Jayson and I made plans to go out on a date last night. It’s not something we do all that often just because of his work schedule and the difficulties of finding someone to watch three kids. It was easier when Rachel was here, but still difficult.
But we went through the trouble to set up a nice evening. We made reservations at a restaurant we like, and we found a babysitter. I was looking forward to it.
As we were getting ready to go, I showered and was picking out some clothes. That’s when things got bad. I quickly realized that I didn’t fit into a single pair of jeans that I own. Not one. Some of them I could button, but very uncomfortably, and some of them I couldn’t even button.
I’m aware that I’ve gained weight recently. I’ve written about it here. I’ve gone from my normal weight of 120 to about 150 over the course of about the last 10 months. I realized I’m not grotesquely obese, but I will argue with anyone who tries to tell me a 25% weight gain isn’t a big deal.
I cried with Jayson and told him I didn’t want to go out anymore. At first I didn’t want to tell him the reason because I didn’t want to sound like such a girl. But I eventually told him about how I don’t fit into my clothes and I’m fat and gross and I don’t want to go out in public.
He said all the right things. He told me he hasn’t even really noticed that I’ve gained any weight, which I have to think is a lie.
I started pouting and became very insistent that I wasn’t going to go out. He kept trying to talk me into it and I kept saying no. I felt like my daughter when she throws her little stubborn tantrums.
I mostly wear sweat pants. I know that probably says a lot about me, but whatever. I’m a stay at home mom. I also wear diapers, and baggy sweatpants is a good way to make that less obvious. I don’t have much of a problem going out in public in sweats pants, but there was no way I’d go to the nice restaurant we had picked out unless I was wearing something better.
I made him call and cancel the reservations. He seemed annoyed with me. I knew I was ruining the plans to have a date night that we had both been looking forward to. He suggested we just go to a different restaurant where I would feel comfortable dressing differently, and I said no multiple times before I finally agreed.
We had an OK night. I was moody. On the drive home he made a comment about us having sex and I responded, “I don’t feel like sex tonight.” He said something about how that may have been the first time those words had ever come out of my mouth, and even though I know he was just trying to be funny, it pissed me off.
This morning he offered to go clothes shopping with me, which I guess was nice of him, but I don’t think he gets it. I don’t want bigger clothes, I was to fit into my smaller clothes.
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