Once upon a time, in a small apartment in the land of hipsters and spanikopita, I was kind of a sullen fat chick. Not PHAT, mind you, with the trendy 'ph.' Fat. Overweight and overwrought and in complete denial about both. The Mexican takeout place down the street was my secret salvation, plastic bags from Lane Bryant were hidden under my bed, and I spent the bulk of my (limited) expendable income on shoes and accessories, all of which were meant to detract from the dimensions of my physical person. I was an office drone, I was something of a dismal failure on the online dating circuit...and I was stuck.
Snap to the present. One major quarter life crisis, two years, and almost 60 pounds later, my life has been flipped upside down, with most of the shitty parts of it falling out of my pockets along the way. And yet, for all that, sometimes I feel like people took me more seriously when I was bigger and sadder and more in need of their help. As a damsel in distress, I got to be the smart, quirky one. As I am now...sometimes it's a fight to be heard beyond my measurements.
So...I'd like to introduce you to the Pretty Girl Paradox. Because sometimes you want to be the loudest, most articulate voice in the room while wearing a little dress with bows and buttons on it. THAT, ladies and gents, is what it means to have it all.
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