The Size that I am

 

“Oh for cryin’ out loud, Guppyman,” you may be thinking to yourself. “Not another posting where you whine about gaining a pound!!!!” Au contraire, mon frère. Sure, I’m still a vain man who really does want to like what I see in the mirror. But this past weekend I think I learned something important about just being comfortable as I am.

Lately, I haven’t been happy about putting on a few pounds. Sure, I don’t look particularly overweight. But my work clothes fit a bit too tightly, and it is annoying. So when I found myself experiencing that exceptionally rare cosmic alignment of “Pay day”, “A little extra cash”, and “Spare time” I decided to do a little shopping. Truth be told, I really don’t treat myself very often. Oh sure, I have a Dante’s coffee in the morning. But money is something that should either be saved or applied towards bills. I don’t think anyone could fairly accuse me of being a stuffaholic. But this weekend, I set aside some ME time, and I decided to go clothes shopping. 

Inspired to support local businesses, I avoided the big department stores, and instead wandered on down to the business district on Fourth Street. My mission – to find some new jeans, some new gym sneakers (to replace the ones that are now 3+ years old, and falling apart), and some work slacks. Almost immediately, I discovered a few stores nestled in between the many, many bridal shops carrying what I was looking for. Yet, I had to accept the fact that maybe my waist size wouldn’t be what I wanted. “Suck it up, buttercup!” I thought to myself. “I ain’t a spring chicken no mo”. Yet, as I strutted in front of the mirror wearing a stylin’ pair of new jeans, I realized something. They looked good! There was nothing about that moment that said I was bigger than I used to be. They simply looked good and I looked good in them. But then came the shopping for slacks. After rejecting poly-blend after poly-blend, I finally found a shop that carried nice wool slacks. But OH were they tight! The jeans that I bought fit just fine. Yet the slacks of (supposedly) the same waist size simply wouldn’t fit. “Why?” I asked myself. “Because clothes labels LIE! So just grab the next size up and go. The slacks aren’t really the size that the labels say. It is just a number. As for me, I’m not a number. I am simply the size that I am”. 

Hmmmm… “the size that I am”. Somehow, when I thought about it in that way, it suddenly didn’t seem like such a big deal. I think I’ve spent too much time comparing myself to the me from the past. And that really makes no sense since the me-in-the-past no longer exists. I am not “bigger than I used to be”. Rather, I am simply the size that I am. I have ALWAYS just been the size that I am. Obvious as this point is, it makes me realize a few things:

I need to stop fretting that I’m not as young as I once was.
I need to stop worrying that I am not as energetic as I once was.
I need to stop beating myself up for not being as svelte as I once was.

Why? Because while I waste time remembering the person that I WAS, I am missing the opportunity to spend time with the person that I AM.