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 Way before the price of gas hit even $2 a gallon, I've really desperately wanted a little scooter. I think it started when I was 12, watching Roman Holiday, coveting those vintage Vespas. I wanted to tool around cobbled streets, wearing capris and ballet flats, giant round sunglasses, perhaps my hair pulled back in a scarf of some nature, and my little scooter would make zip zip noises and I would perhaps raise my hand and nonchalantly say "Ciao!" Also, there might be a basket on the back, out of which would be sticking the neck of a bottle of chianti and also, an impossibly long crusty baguette. Basically, I wanted to be a living, breathing Shag illustration. I was totally ahead of my time.And now, with the gas crunch, it costs something like eleventy million dollars to fill my car each week and I work right spanking next to a motorscooter dealership, so every day, I look at these adorable, feminine little retro scooters that aren't Vespas, but they are so cheap and so cute and some of them are even decorated with flowers, and I ache, just a little bit. You see, about four years ago, I made up my mind. Esteban had just purchased a motorcycle, and I was going to get myself a little scooter. I had the cash in hand, researched the bike I wanted, figured out which motorcycle safety course I was going to take and then I realized... oh yeah, I'm fat.
The bike is wee. Well, not really, but when I
sit on one? It looks crazily small and ridiculous and I live in an area
rife with rednecks driving giant pickup trucks and suddenly I had a
vision of riding the scooter and then someone saying something
offensive and then feeling not so happy, not so baguette-toting, about
the whole scooter thing. And I didn't want to spend $4K on something
that would just make me feel miserable or end up occupying the spot of
shame in my garage, so I stuck to the safety and camouflage of my car
and spent the money on a new floor for my kitchen. And if I ever get
to the point where I don't look like one of those bike-riding bears at
the circus, the first thing I'm doing is getting a damned scooter.
It shouldn't have to be this way. I know this. And I often think about the story that my friend Monique told me about feeling awkward about doing a zip line in Mexico. She worried about doing it as a fat girl, but then worried that she would have trekked through the jungle, excited to do the zip line, and then wouldn't have done it because she was worried about what other people would think about her. So she zipped and it was awesome. I've mentioned before that Monique is one of my heroes and it's things like this that make me aspire to follow her lead. I'm working up to it. And I'm patient. But it makes me wonder about how many other things we're not doing because we're insecure about our bodies. Are you afraid to dance at a club? Are you afraid of wearing a swimsuit in public? What about getting on an airplane? Is there something you want to do but something is stopping you from doing it? Tell me your stories in the comments. I'm dying to hear about it! 14 CommentsLeave a comment |
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FEED ME
I would love to go on a hike to a hotsprings and soak there until the stars came out. I don't know why, but it seems like Oregon is just littered with hotsprings and I'm missing out! All because I can't contemplate hiking (would I complain and never make it up the hill?) and then getting naked or stripping down to my bathing suit. I just can't. I recently made a pact with my best friend that I would aim for this, as an accomplishment goal, but it really does feel a million miles away. Fat thinking at work!
I LOVE scooters! I SO want one! But 2 things are holding me back; it's hard to fit the kids' car seats on the back of a Vespa, and, oh yeah, I'm scared to death to actually ride one!
I think my fears, more than my weight, hold me back. Not that I'm crazy about wearing a swimsuit...
Today I donned the Miracle Suit and was finally brave enough to swim with my kids for a little bit. The exercise felt great & it was such a relief to be in the cool water instead of sitting in the heat and humidity.
I have been longingly watching the Wimbledon & remembering how much I enjoyed tennis before I gained so much weight & had a knee injury. Maybe I can find the courage to get out there some morning with my knee brace & husband/tennis partner & accept whatever my body can do.
A vespa? Honey, I'm afraid to ride my husband. It's like having a panic attack with a running commentary of every roll and jiggle, the number on the scale, how much I don't resemble Megan Good or whatever other actress he finds attractive, and how he really must love me to put himself through that.
I wish there was a way to do it without thinking about that.
Roller coasters. During college I went to an amusement park with some friends and I didn't fit in the seat. It was so awful. So now, I don't even go with them to the park anymore. I hate it.
The worst is being too fat to exercise... how ironic is that? Too fat to jog or ride a bike comfortably and too fat to feel comfortable going into the gym or pool.
I've been fantasizing about a Vespa too -- baby blue -- as an around-town transport. I have the Roman Holiday thoughts, too, and wonder if I'm daydreaming about it just because some deluded part of my brain thinks I'd turn into Audrey Hepburn as soon as I got on.
There is a Vespa dealership near my house which is prominently advertising the "75 MPG" thing.
But we don't have room in our garage for one and probably I should just walk. So I lust from a distance.
In addition to being afraid of some rude person, I am fearful of getting ran over or a million other agonizing, painful deaths. I am a walking bag of phobias. I'm a HAWT mess! I know I am missing out on a lot of things, but...I am just scared of getting hurt or kille and can't get over it. Therapy did not help.
I was FAT (over 100lbs overweight)
Lost (most of) said weight.
Sooo...
Now I am afraid that I will never love my body/be comfortable enough with it to do anything that involves showing more skin than just my arms and calves. No bathing suits, let alone a bikini. I am afraid of being judged by my stretch marks. I actually AM afraid of dancing in clubs. I won't wear light colored jeans because I think they make me look big. If I catch a guy checking me out, I honestly question why. I suppose I still have a severely morphed body-image, but thats why I visit blogs such as this, to gain perspective! And more importantly, realize that I am not alone. :)
Love to you all!!
I had corrective surgery for scoliosis back in 2001, so I have a long scar going down my back, and a rib on the right side that sticks out farther than the other side. I've been wanting to take swimming classes for a long time, but my insecurity about the way my back looks has been a big deterrent.
If it bugs you that much why don’t you lose weight? Your weight is something you control, why are you letting it control you?
Stop sitting around complaining about how bad things are and get up and do something about it.
I'm getting to the point where my age and mental health are bigger barriers than the weight. The hurtful attitudes of others, whether from they stem from prejudice or cluelessness, are more than I'm prepared to deal with, and I find myself retreating from any social situation where I have to deal with large groups of people.
I feel like I need to marshall my energy and emotional strength, and can't afford to squander it by fighting off the negativity of people I don't know, and probably wouldn't like if I did.
After losing 80kgs, I bought a Vespa GTS 250, the scooter of my dreams, last year.
I dreamed of the ballet flats, capris, scarf and large sunglasses.
The reality is by the time I put on the boots, cos one of my ballet flats fell of at the traffic lights one day, I had to ride around the block to collect it and dart in the traffic to pick it up just after a truck ran over it (you need shoes/boots with straps or laces).
Then put on my jacket with body armour and jeans and gloves, cos in the safety school I went to they showed pictures of a pretty girl with gravel rash all over her legs, arms and hands, after coming off at low speeds in capris and sleeveless top.
Then with my Nolan helmet (I don't want my brain to rattle) my trendy sunnies don't fit at the sides without feeling like the arms are being inserted into the sides of my brain.
It just sometimes wears me out getting ready, to go out.
But it's mine, it's there, and I do use it, just not as much as I thought I would. Maybe if I sold my car, but I work too far away and I am too chicken to ride on the highway.
Lesley
proud owner of 3 vintage scooters (2 lambrettas / 1 vespa) - the greatest thing about my scooter is that it is a 64" allstate vespa and one of the last models to have a wide caboose - so proportionally it all evens out in the end! (pixs here - red one before restoration cause she was full of rust http://www.flickr.com/photos/brainerd/286061233/ and after http://www.flickr.com/photos/brainerd/290862696/ )
lesleys spot on though about it isn't actually a breeze to just hop on a scoot away - add in the crankiness of vintage and it can take me a good 15 minutes just to get away!
gin