No, I’m Not Pregnant, I’m Just Fat

I’ve always carried my weight in my midsection. It’s just the way I was made. I have no butt, slim limbs and a larger chest and rib cage. Carrying weight in my midsection has been a struggle and a point of low self-esteem my entire life. It’s my biggest insecurity and I have tried many times to lose it.

A few factors work against me in trying to lose that weight. 1) I am on a medication that causes me to gain weight. 2) Since I only have about 10-12 pounds to lose, I have to be incredibly strict with my diet. The only time I have ever effectively lost weight in my midsection was to be on a diet that restricted all carbohydrates. It worked when I needed it to (before my wedding) but it was so strict that I could not sustain it long term. 3) I had a baby and just as my luck would have it, I have lingering weight in my midsection because of it.

I try to watch what I eat and exercise during the week pretty religiously but on the weekends and especially during summer time, I allow myself to cheat. Maybe this is sabotaging myself, but restricting everything I eat during the week makes me so nutty sometimes that I have to allow myself to have a piece of cake or some beer.

Around my college years, I started to wear flowy tops that do not cling to my midsection. It made me feel way more comfortable than wearing something tight and spending my time sucking in my gut. I still wear those tops and flowy dresses today. They’re cute, and they really express who I am at the core, which is a hippie. My husband says these clothes do in effect make me look larger and I can understand that, but nothing makes me more self-conscious then to have fabric right against my flesh.

I wear these types of shirts to work as well. Never did I think it was a problem until I started getting the dreaded questions repeatedly, “are you pregnant?” or “how far along are you?”

Nothing makes you feel worse than to have to turn around and say, “no, I am not pregnant.” I’ve spoken these words so many times in the last year and a half that I can’t even recall how many times this sentence has come out of my mouth. The company I work for recently rewarded their employees by taking us to a casino for the day. I was drinking a beer and someone still came up to me and asked if I was pregnant while simultaneously rubbing my stomach. I couldn’t believe it. Why in the world would I drink a beer in public if I was pregnant? I spent the rest of the day hiding behind a baggie sweater and my handbag.

Maybe I do look pregnant, but who on earth has the nerve to ask that question? I would never ever in a million years just randomly ask someone that unless they brought it up first. Where have people’s manners’ gone? Out the window? Who told you it was okay to touch my stomach anyway?

For those people who don’t get what the big deal is, you probably were never asked these types of questions to then have to say “no, I am not pregnant, I am just fat.” I feel like every time I say that, mentally I am shrinking inside. I am already uncomfortable in my body; I don’t need anyone telling me that what I see in the mirror really is true.

So word to the wise, if you think someone is pregnant, keep it to yourself. There is really no need to ask. If a woman is pregnant, and she is ready to say something, she will, trust me.