Free Designated Fat Girl by Jennifer Joyner

SuLin, so she missed the entire wedding fiasco. And of course I didn’t confide in her what had happened—the fewer people who knew about my horrible weight gain and the destructive path it was taking in my life, the better. As luck would have it, Valerie was in college several hundred miles away from me, and the chances to actually see her were few and far between. We kept in touch by phone, and when it was time for her to walk down the aisle, she asked me to be in her wedding. This was a few years after the SuLin incident and several years into my weight battle. I was close to 250 pounds, and again, the idea of slipping into a bridesmaid’s dress was as foreign to me as becoming the queen of England. But of course, I told Valerie I would be in her wedding. I reasoned with myself that I would be more realistic with my weight loss goals this time—I would never try to pretend to Valerie that I could fit into a size-14 dress. Instead I gave her measurements for a size-18 gown, figuring I’d surely be able, this time, to lose some weight. Never mind I was in size-22 work clothes at this point. Never mind thatI already knew Valerie’s bridesmaid’s dresses were strapless, but mercifully, in navy blue this time around. Could I imagine myself wearing a sleeveless dress at a public event of any sort weighing as much as I did? Heavens, no—and I thought that, along with the humiliation and shame that had accompanied what had happened with SuLin, it would finally give me what I needed to lose the weight.
    Shockingly that didn’t happen.
    Amazingly, though, history didn’t completely repeat itself. With two months to go before the wedding, I found the courage to confess my predicament to my friend. In an actual phone call, even. Valerie was upset, angry that I had lied to her. But she was also sympathetic and wanted to help me. She drove to see me the very next day.
    Agreeing to see her face-to-face was so hard. I had hidden for so long from the people in my past, even friends who had meant so much to me. But the shame of my actions and my desire to somehow rectify them gave me the strength to face her. She came to my house, and we hugged forever. “You’re beautiful,” she beamed, and I cried with relief. I had my friend back, and I’d managed to scrape together a bit of integrity.
    Being in Valerie’s wedding was one of the most difficult things I have ever done. I was never the type to think “big is beautiful,” not as it pertained to my own body. I was ashamed, and I felt gross, but I was determined to be there for my friend’s big day. I went to see the seamstress, who properly measured me and told me I could possibly fit into a size-24 dress, if we could let it out. I choked back tears as I called the boutique and painfully relayed my dilemma. A couple of days later, I receivedthe bad news: They didn’t make the dress in a size 24. The largest was an 18.
    Horrified and humiliated, I consulted the seamstress, who found a solution: I could order another size-18 dress, and she could make it work. Yes, I would have to have a dress specially made in order to fit my big fat body. I truly wanted to die, wanted to avoid this public embarrassment at any cost. But I simply couldn’t do that to another friend. I had to do whatever it took to make it right, even if it meant losing some face.
    The dress was constructed. I was in the wedding. It was really, really hard. I saw a bunch of people I hadn’t seen in years, friends who had no idea about my huge weight gain. I smiled and acted as though nothing was wrong. They did the same. My heart was breaking inside, finally having to face the disappointment I had imagined all those years. I felt so very low.
    But the smile on Valerie’s beautiful face was radiant. She was gorgeous on any day, but on this occasion, she was breathtaking, and I was happy I was there to witness it. I was there for my friend, no matter the cost. And that really did mean something to me.
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