It’s interesting you know, when you’ve existed at both ends of the size spectrum. I’ve probably got deeper insight than most into things you never even think about as an average Joe, but which you become really preoccupied with when you’re the size of a moose. Let’s talk about chairs as one example – you’ll either completely get this, or you’ll think I’ve lost the plot depending on where you sit (pardon the pun) on the size continuum.
In our living room, we have the world’s best chair. It’s a big fat leather electric recliner, and the only effort required in terms of getting comfy is planting your butt and pressing the button. The footrest rises, the back lowers and your whole body is cradled in a cocoon of soft padded leather. It’s one of the favourite parts of my day, that moment when I can climb into my PJs and melt into that chair. Many happy hours have been spent in that very chair watching ‘The Biggest Loser’ whilst eating cheesy balls but let’s not go there, that’s all in the past now.
The thing I love most of all about that chair is that I don’t have to think about how I’m going to get comfy, it just happens. When you’re effectively the size of two people, deciding where to sit can be a bit traumatic. If you pick a low chair, you’re going to struggle to get out of it – sort of like a turtle on its back trying to turn over. Legs will flail, your belly will almost certainly get in the way as you try and hoist yourself out of it and you might need to rock back and forth a couple of times before you make it to your feet. Usually a sound like “OOOF” escapes without you intending it to. Whatever method of extraction works for you, trust me it won’t be elegant. Pick a chair that’s too high, and you somehow feel…I don’t know, exposed? You feel too visible, like there’s too much of you on show.
Just out of interest, how do you sit in your chair? Legs crossed? I can’t do that. No fat person can…when you have so much padding on your thighs, the mechanics of crossing your legs just don’t work. If you manage to get one leg over the other in the first place it immediately sort of jumps off again of its own accord. It’s like folding a piece of paper in half and half again more than 8 times, it just can’t be done. Maybe you’re a ‘legs curled up underneath you’ kind of girl? I can’t do that either, or at least not for more than about 2 minutes. I get cramp, and it makes my feet tingle, I’m guessing because the pressure of everything being folded up is kind of like building a dam in my circulation.
Strange thing is, you get used to stuff like this being the norm. It becomes the wallpaper of your life but I tell you what, writing it down actually brings it into much sharper focus – how ridiculous that I would have to expend energy worrying about whether there’s going to be something I can sit on comfortably wherever it is I’m going.
It’s another light bulb moment to push me forward 🙂
