Vocabulary words for the day:
Potent- short for potential bf; love interest
Suburban- hot male at least 6’ or taller, over 200lbs
I’ve decided to make eating right and weight loss my latest obsession. Unfortunately, I have a short attention span so I have to make myself become obsessed with it in order to try to take it seriously and see results. Furthermore, I think I’m going to make a deal with the devil and join my local gym (booooooo!) But the main reason behind any sort of diet plan that I’m involved in is: looking good naked.
The Right Fit: Going through the list of exes, and potents it’s clear that I have no rhyme or reason about size and fit. For a brief stint I went through a “suburban” phase because awesome. I am 5’ 7” myself and even at my smallest size I am not a tiny girl SO, of course it’s nice to curl up next to a strapping Suburban that can throw you around and still tower over you when you wear your 6” stilettos. However, lately I’ve found myself reverting back to my high school tastes—the little guys are just doing it for me now!
Not long ago, I went to meet a friend for drinks in the city and, like a true mom that doesn’t give a damn, I threw on yoga pants, a cutoff sweatshirt and still had on that morning’s makeup to complete my “look”. I got a couple beers in and on one of my many trips back from the bathroom I notice a gorgeous young man sitting in the once empty barstool next to mine. As I returned to my seat, he looks me up and down and says, “Hey, Beautiful”. HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA–sorry, that was my initial reaction inside of my head. I gave him a tight smile and quickly turned my back to him. Yeah.right. This guy was way too gorgeous, way too young and he was about my height and looked like if I tried to sit on his lap he would snap in half. What the hell? Anyway, fast forward to me being in a particularly friendly mood and this guy actually ended up becoming a potent. Later I had to ask him why he would even dare hit on me while I was clearly WEARING PAJAMAS IN PUBLIC. His response: “Your ass was just so phat and it was hanging off the barstool—I just had to talk to you.” Wait, what?
Mo’ Booty, Mo Problems: Somewhere in the land of crazy black dudes this all makes sense to them! I can put on my tightest dress and walk by a group of 6 guys; 4 will whistle and comment that I’m “phat as shit” (good) and the other 3 will shake their heads and consider me just plain fat. (And I’m not bad at math, I know 4+3= 7 not 6, but when it comes to checking out women there always seems to be one straggler that joins the crowd and wants to insert his opinion, too). For whatever the reason, the more weight I gain the smaller the guy I attract. The greatest thing I have to fear in losing weight is losing my sex appeal…wait, what? While it is great to put on a few pounds and still get male attention, I know that I can’t be the only one confused about this phenomenon. There’s a joke I read on Twitter the other day: I hope to one day have as much confidence as a plus sized black woman. Plus sized black women are simply confused individuals, so the safest thing to do is to at least be confident about it…I say this speaking as one myself. Though I still buy regular sized clothes, so I don’t really consider myself one—but I’ve had other women refer to me as plus-sized. I’ve had guys refer to me as thick, or on the lighter of side thick, or phat or WHATEVER! I really just…don’t…know. But I do know that my ass and boobs will shrink back to their normal size and with it will go this newfound mojo I’ve discovered with hot, lean guys. All those lanky bones, flat stomachs and sinewy physiques—sighhhhhh, but I DIGRESS!
Confidence is Close to Loveliness: What I do know is that my confidence and self-esteem is at an all time low. In spite of all the extra attention I have been getting from males, the fact of the matter is that I am no longer comfortable with my body at this current weight. I appreciate that there are men out there that don’t mind that fries and a four-piece nugget come along with this shake, but the fact that I’m not happy means I need to do something about it for ME. I suck at discipline but I am going to try…and I’ll try not to sob when my friends look at me and ask, “What happened to your ass?”