Read Online Designated Fat Girl by Jennifer Joyner - Free Book Online Page B

and in effect sabotaging my best friend’s wedding was just inexcusable. If I’d stopped to listen to that inner voice, the one that was screaming at me to stop the nonsense and tell the truth, things would have been a whole lot better for all those involved. But doing so at that point would have meant admitting failure, and I wasn’t ready, wasn’t able to do that. I had to believe that I could lose this weight, that I could rid myself of this problem. Thinking otherwise, to me, would have meant giving up, and I just couldn’t face the failure.
    I tried, I really did. I was able to lose a few pounds by watching what I ate and exercising. If I were on a reasonable timetable, maybe I would have had a shot at substantial weight loss. But with each passing day, my panic grew, and the weight wasn’t coming off fast enough.
I’ll just have to try harder, take more drastic measures,
I told myself. I severely limited my food intake, or tried to fast altogether. But we all know these things don’t work, not in the long term. After a few days of starving myself, I would binge eat everything in sight. Net weight loss: zero.
    In order to keep up my charade, I had to make up an excuse not to attend SuLin’s wedding shower. She wasn’t stupid; she had figured out by now that something was really, really wrong. I hadn’t yet made arrangements to pick up my bridesmaid’s dress, to see if it needed altering. Little did she know that dress could get all the altering in the world; I still wouldn’t be able to wear it. I had also promised SuLin she could borrow mywedding veil, and she was waiting to see me in order to try it on and make sure it worked with her dress. I was missing all the festivities leading up to the most important day in my best friend’s life. I couldn’t believe this was happening, and more important, I couldn’t figure a way out.
    Finally, about a month before the wedding, I couldn’t deny it any longer. I wrote SuLin a letter. I was such a coward, so ashamed, I couldn’t even bring myself to tell her on the phone. I did at least tell the truth in writing, letting her know that my weight had been spiraling out of control and I would be unable to stand up for her. As lame as it seemed, I apologized for lying to her, and I truthfully wrote that I didn’t know what was happening to me or how to stop it. I told her I loved her, and I sent her the letter, along with the veil.
    She called a couple of days later, but of course I was too chicken to pick up the phone. She left me an angry, tearful message, questioning how I could do this to her. I had no excuse, nothing I could say, but I should have tried. She deserved so much better than she got from me. I didn’t return her call. I paid for a bridesmaid’s dress I never saw, much less wore. And I missed my best friend’s wedding. I had made such a mess of things, and I had only myself to blame.
    About a year later I heard from SuLin. Incredibly, she missed me and wanted to know how I was. I eagerly called her back and learned her great news: She and her husband were expecting their first child. I cried, happy for her, relieved at her forgiveness, and in sorrow for missing so many important things. She didn’t ask me about my weight, sensing (correctly) that I wasn’t ready to talk about it. We promised to get together soon. Butit never happened. I was by this point morbidly obese and so ashamed of how I looked. I couldn’t bear to see SuLin again, and we slowly lost touch. My weight gain, and my inability to deal with it with any sense of rationality, had cost me one of the great friendships of my life. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get over it.
    If I said the very same scenario almost repeated itself a few years later, surely no one would believe me. There’s no way I could have allowed another friend to suffer because of my inability to admit the truth, is there?
    Remember who we are dealing with here.
    My other best friend, Valerie, was not friends with