“Maybe you can eventually find clothes that fit and feel comfortable,” my new dietitian says. “Clothes that feel gender-affirming and body-affirming, and that you don’t have to hide in. Maybe you can find clothes that make you feel like you.”
Clothes that make me feel good about my appearance? I don’t see how that’s possible.
I go through my closet, discarding things that will never fit again. Giving up? Listening to my body? Resigning myself?
What exactly am I doing?
I try on another shirt. I don’t know if it fits. It feels fine, but I look so awful in it. Does that count as fitting? I don’t think so… it emphasizes so much just how big I am.
Would someone who was confident in their body feel comfortable wearing this?
A long pause, as I try to think. As I try to imagine someone who could have a body like mine but not be ashamed.
I know there are people bigger than I am who are satisfied with their bodies, who love their bodies.
But I can’t really imagine someone with a body like mine, because my perception of my body changes so much day-by-day. Minute-by-minute, honestly.
Bodies bigger than mine are good. Bodies smaller than mine make me wish I was back there. But this body? It’s just bad.
“Bad” as a child would say it. Categorically, shamefully, unacceptably bad. A simplistic description, with no nuance at all, because that’s the view I’ve had since I was barely old enough to talk.
I put the shirts away. Could I ever be comfortable wearing something like that? Wearing it with a body like mine?
I really don’t know.