Turning my attention back to the ladies now seating themselves in the chairs set around the room in a circle, I could see their name tags over their hearts. Mary, Jane, Lucy, Maxine, Susan, Nicole…I glanced down again at my own name tag, giving it one last pat. Zara…warrior princess, I added in my head.
“So, let’s go around the room and introduce ourselves.” The woman leading the group was very enthusiastic. She was on the short side and what I liked to call super curvy. Her hair was a mass of blond curls stuck up on her head in a loose bun, which I also admired. She was dressed head-to-toe in black—the uniform, I called it. It was what curvy women everywhere liked to wear. It’s what I used to wear myself before I discovered the “women’s sizes” in my favorite department store’s career women’s section. Now you couldn’t keep me away from color if you tried.
I glanced down at the print blouse I’d purchased just yesterday. The bright pink design had caught my eye right away and I knew it would look perfect with my dark jeans and the sequined heels I’d gotten last week. And it did.
I smiled, my attention back on the woman standing in the center of the circle.
“And just tell us one interesting thing about yourselves and why you are here today.”
Why was I here?
It was my sister, Madison, who’d sent me the link to the support group. She’d said that she used to go when she was fat and it had really helped her to get a handle on things.
I hadn’t said as much to Madison—now a size six, by the way—but I had my own reasons for checking the group out. It was more of an experiment than something I really thought that I needed.
I’d come a long way, thanks to my therapist, Judy—and my own hard work—Judy would make sure that I added that bit if she heard the thoughts in my head about it. But I always liked to meet other women, not only struggling with their weight issues—I knew now that this was only half of the real problem—but more importantly, issues about self-esteem and self-worth. I found it all very fascinating, since my own goal of weight loss had been replaced with a goal of fully accepting myself.
I tried to focus my attention back on the woman leading the group, who had just introduced herself as Tammy.
“I started this group because I wanted to create a support system for myself and others like me—like us—who want to lose weight. I wanted an environment where we can talk about our struggles and give one another suggestions for how to overcome certain blocks that stand in our way.”
I couldn’t help but cringe and I tried not to show it on my face, but by the looks a few women were throwing in my direction, I wasn’t so sure that I’d succeeded. I did want to be fit—yes. But it had taken me a long time to get to a point where it was not just about losing weight, but about being healthy and strong.
Tammy was going on about her interesting fact being that she’d just had her first tandem skydiving session. I had to hand it to her. That was a good one and really rather fearless, which was something I always admired in a woman.
To my left, another woman in uniform stood up. “Hi. I’m Susan.”
I thought Susan had a lovely smile and seemed incredibly nervous.
“I’m here because I’m looking for friends who understand what it’s like to be overweight.”
Fair enough, I thought. It’s as good a reason as any.
“And an interesting thing about yourself, Susan?” Their fearless leader was quick to get the missed question in there.
“Hmm. I don’t really feel very interesting most of the time.”
I knew I was frowning as I willed Susan to dig deep. Come on, girl. I know you’ve got something interesting to tell us.
“Well, I do love to knit and I love my dogs. And I love to knit sweaters for my dogs.” She laughed a little and I smiled in her direction.
Okay. That’s something, I guess. I was trying really hard to be less judgmental these days.
The woman sitting directly to my left stood up.
“Hi, I’m Maxine.”
Maxine was gorgeous. She had jet black hair that hung to her shoulders and quite possibly the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. She was taller than most of the women, but you wouldn’t necessarily know it by the way she was kind of slumped over—as if standing up straight were a chore. I bit my lip as I tried to pay attention to what she was saying.
“I’m here because I’m tired of yo-yo dieting. I hate the way my body looks in a swimsuit and I have a big vacation coming up with a group of girlfriends—they all look like models.”
The others nodded—an immediate understanding among the sisterhood. I couldn’t do it, though. It was a lie and I was trying hard to keep myself in check. In my head, I was screaming at the women but it was almost my turn to speak and I needed to not get carried away.
Chapter 2
Maxine was talking about her interesting fact now and I sat a little straighter in my chair as I listened.
“I used to be a model—back in my glory days.”
She looked like she was apologizing for something, and worse yet were the looks on the faces of the other women in the room. It was a tough crowd of commiserators.
Maxine continued. “And I want to get my figure back.”
I tried to be objective as I looked at her. I didn’t honestly know what she was talking about. Unlike the other women there, Maxine didn’t look like she was carrying much extra weight on her at all—not to my eye anyway. But the other women were nodding their heads again—feeling the pain that poor Maxine was describing.
I sighed and took a deep breath, determined to just stay focused on the positive. It wasn’t so long ago that I was just like these other women—desperate to change my body—change myself.
I smiled in Maxine’s direction as I stood up to introduce myself. I took my time making eye contact with the other women as I looked around the circle at the faces in front of me. I put on my widest smile and said a silent mantra—be yourself, be authentic.
“Hi. My name’s Zara.”
The eyes that met mine were hopeful. I could see that now. All of these women were there to find something—anything to help them feel better about themselves. I took a small breath before I continued.
“I’m here because I like to connect with other women—to see other women making positive changes in their lives.”
The others were nodding their heads in agreement but I knew we weren’t talking about the same thing. They were focused on weight loss while I just wanted them to see their own beauty—regardless of the number on their scale. I glanced over at our leader, Tammy, reminding myself that this was her show to run, not mine. And also reminding myself that it wasn’t long ago that I felt the exact same way.
Tammy was smiling in my direction, asking for my interesting fact.
I grinned back. This I was ready for.
I looked down at my name tag, giving it a little pat.
“A few months ago I changed my name.”
I saw the look of surprise on several faces. It wasn’t common to change one’s first name. I knew this was a fact and I was proud of myself for doing it. It had been a big step in my own growth over the past months, and the significance of the name I’d chosen meant everything to me.
“What was your name before?” Someone called out.
I quickly scanned the name tags, ready to make up a name if needed. Good. All clear.
“My name used to be Catherine.” I didn’t miss the confused looks that were being sent my way. “Which I know is a nice enough name—I didn’t really have an issue with my name, I mean. I just wanted to be able to choose something—something that had significance to me.”
“Okay, so why Zara?” The same woman called out.
I smiled. “Zara fit the new me that I was becoming—that I’m still becoming. Zara means princess and I’d reached a point in my own journey that I decided I was going to start treating myself like the princess I’m meant to be—that we’re all meant to be—as women, I mean.”
I
looked around the room and could see that my words were being met with a certain amount of skepticism, which was okay with me. I knew it would be a hard crowd. I sat down, ready to find out about the woman who was sitting to my right.
She stood up. I liked her right away because she was one of the few women who weren’t “in uniform.”
“Hi, my name’s Nicole.” She smiled in my direction. “I’m here because my boyfriend thought it would be a good idea.” She looked down at the floor for a few seconds. “No, no—that’s not exactly true. Actually, he gave me an ultimatum about losing weight and—” Her voice caught and she looked like she was having a hard time getting the rest of her words out. “—And I love him. So much.” Sitting right next to her, I didn’t miss the tears that she quickly swiped away with her hand. “I don’t want to lose him and—well, I don’t want to be fat anymore either, so it’s time to do something about it.”
Honestly, I was trying to contain my anger at her boyfriend. What a jerk—and how dare he make this gorgeous creature cry like she had something to be ashamed of. I was trying my best to keep my annoyance to myself, but when Nicole said that the only interesting thing about her was that she was dating a guy who was in a rock band, I couldn’t keep quiet.
I stood up and grabbed my bag, trying to decide in a split second if I should run for the door without saying a word or speak the thoughts that were on the tip of my tongue. I made it across the room to the door, before I turned towards the bewildered women all watching me turn around.
“You ladies just don’t get it. You’re okay—all of you—just the way you are.”
Chapter 3
The women looked at me as if I was speaking a foreign language, and I couldn’t blame them, really. I was perhaps slightly out of line with my outburst, but I just couldn’t be a part of feeding into the lie that so many of them seemed to be set on achieving—on believing. That if we could only be skinnier, or prettier, or anything other than who we already were—everything would somehow be magically better.
Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to be more fit, healthier—and yes, even thinner if I was being honest with myself—but my value, my self-worth no longer depended on that. I reminded myself that they were me months ago. Over the past year, I’d changed a lot and I was still changing. I took a deep breath and tried to replace my annoyance with patience.
“I just mean that you all deserve to be happy now, regardless of your weight.” I looked directly at Nicole. “And I think if you will really take the time to explore, to listen to yourselves, you’ll discover your own interests and just how interesting you really are—not only in relation to the men in your lives, I mean.”
I moved my gaze toward Tammy. “Anyway I’m sorry for disrupting the group. It wasn’t my intention to cause any drama here. I just don’t think this is for me. I wish you all a lot of luck, though. Truly.”
With that, I turned and walked out the door.
I was almost to my car when I heard my name being called out.
“Zara, wait. Please.”
I turned around to see the rocker’s girlfriend—Nicole—running towards me.
“Nicole—”
I didn’t really take the time to edit my thoughts because by this time I was anxious to get going. Before the meeting, I'd left a message for my trainer, Braden, to see if he could squeeze me in for an impromptu workout at the gym. I’d read his text back to me, saying that if I could be there within the hour, he could see me.
But I had to be polite now to this woman whose obvious inferiority complex had set me off. I tried again to get the words out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by my little outburst back there. I hope you weren’t offended.”
Nicole met my gaze with her own, and I could see her pain and the possibility of a desire to know the truth.
“You were talking to me back there, weren’t you?”
“Well, yeah, but not just you.” I shook my head. “Really, I should probably mind my own business. I’m sorry.”
“No, something about the way you spoke in there—about changing your name, I mean—really had an impact on me.” She was smiling now, and I decided that I really liked this woman who seemed to have the same passion for prints as I did.
“Well, I wasn’t always this way. I mean, trust me when I say that I know where you’re coming from.” I smiled at her. “Look, I gotta get going right now, but maybe we can grab a coffee or something sometime.”
Nicole had her phone in her hand, ready to punch in my info. “I’d like that a lot. Do you want to give me your number and I can call you to set something up for next week maybe?”
“Sure.” I gave her my number and then called out to her through my open window as I backed out of my parking space. “Nicole.”
“Yeah?”
“No offense, but your boyfriend sounds like a jerk. I know it’s not my place to say, but from just the little bit you shared in there, you’d be better off without him.”
She gave me a weak smile and I could imagine her jumbled thoughts.
“Just think about it, okay?”
She nodded. I pulled out my phone to send a quick text to Braden before I set off out of the parking lot.
Thx, B. You’re the best. I’m on my way and ready to sweat.
Before I’d had the chance to pull out of the parking lot, my phone dinged with another text.
Anything for you, beautiful. I hope you’ll be wearing my favorite pink spandex.
I couldn’t help laughing. Braden had a way of both cracking me up and making me feel amazing. We’d developed a relationship that had crossed over from only that of a trainer and client to a real friendship, often grabbing coffee or lunch after my workouts. I was sure that our flirty banter had to be crossing some boundaries somewhere in some big book of trainer/trainee ethics, but so far it had only served to help me with my workouts. I wasn’t kidding myself. I loved it when Braden was pleased with my workouts—with me. The guy was drop dead gorgeous with his blond hair, blue eyes, and “movie star handsome” good looks. Braden was also truly one of the best people I’d ever met. But there was a certain safety when it came to our flirtation because I knew that he didn’t really mean anything by it—I’d seen the types of women he’d dated and I was pretty sure that they didn’t look like me when it came to body type. Yet, Braden was always nothing but positive when it came to my body—even when he was kicking my butt during a hard workout.
I sent him a quick text back.
I told you. I’m saving the pink spandex for a special occasion.
I smiled as I pulled out of the parking lot, thoughts about the meeting fiasco almost forgotten. I cared about those women—all women who didn’t recognize their own worth—but I couldn’t save them all from themselves. I laughed, knowing that’s not exactly what I meant but my thoughts were all jumbled about the events of the morning. I’d have to think about it again later, once I’d managed a little distance from the feelings of annoyance and frustration.
Overall, I thought I was a pretty compassionate person, and even more so with my own growth and personal development. But I knew I couldn’t save the world—or all women of the world, rather.
For now, I’d just focus on seeing my own improvement when it came to my reps at the gym.
My phone dinged, interrupting my thoughts.
End of the preview.
Get “Becoming Zara” here:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00XVJ938M
Single Wide Female
FUN FACT: “Becoming Zara” and the “B.I.G. Girls Club” series are books written by fictional character, Samantha Bradford, of the “Single Wide Female: The Bucket List” series.
“Becoming Zara” is the book that Samantha publishes to complete her bucket list item #18 (Publish a Book) and the B.I.G. Girls Club series is what she writes following that.
Note: You can download #1 Learn Pole Dancing of that series for free and here is a preview of that book.
Please enjoy the followin
g preview for Book 1
of Single Wide Female:
The Bucket List #1 Learn Pole Dancing
Chapter 1
I ran my fingertips over the well-worn piece of notebook paper. It had ridges from the amount of times I’d folded it up and tucked it away. I had written the list at a time when I didn’t really believe I would ever actually accomplish anything on it. But I had, and now it was time to look at the next item.
I rolled over on my bed and stared down at it. When I had added it to my list, it was just a fun little whim, not something I thought I would actually do. But then again, I never would have thought I’d be able to lose so much weight either.
“What was I thinking?” I said out loud as I gnawed on the pencil between my teeth. I was tempted to just erase the item and replace it with something else. No one would have to know. But I would know. I cringed at the idea of actually following through with it. But I had to do it. I had to. It was on the list. I groaned and rolled over on my bed. I stared up at the cracks in my ceiling for a moment. Then I sat up with a new determination.
“Yes, I will do this,” I said, looking down at the item on the list. “Pole dancing class, here I come.” I was attempting to sound brave for myself, when I caught sight of the time on my alarm clock.
I grabbed my jeans out of the laundry basket beside my bed, and slid the pants up over my hips with my eyes squeezed shut. With a sigh of relief, I let out the belly I had been struggling to hold in. I didn’t think the zipper would slide up so easily, but it did with one smooth zip. I smiled at my reflection in the tall mirror as I studied the way that my jeans hugged my hips and rear. All of my hard work, all of the passed-up snacks, had really paid off. My body looked different and I felt different.
The Rockstar’s Girlfriend (B.I.G. Girls Club, Book 1) Page 10
