The first time my clothes shrunk I shrugged it off as a learning process. I was in college and (finally) decided I should do laundry. The sweatpants and t-shirt I'd been wearing were covered with food stains, so I washed the mountain of dirty clothes on my floor.
Afterward, nothing fit me.
I called my mom to tell her. She mentioned not overeating and told me to wash in cold water. Lesson learned.
The second time it happened was after I'd moved in with my fiancé. I'd taken a week off to fix up our house, spent the time wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt and eating everything.
That weekend she did the laundry… and nothing fit.
She mentioned that maybe the clothes didn't shrink-maybe I was getting bigger. She was right: I'd packed on a few extra pounds. But I wasn't fat… I was just short.
I'd always been a little husky because of my height. I'm 5'8". In high school, I weighed about what my friends weighed, so I wasn't fat. I shouldn't be punished or considered fat just because I'm short, right?
In college, I put on 60 pounds; but it was fine because my friends put on weight, too. My weight gain was just more obvious because I was shorter.
Then I graduated, and moved in with my fiancée, and she shrunk my clothes. Or at least that's what I thought.
Later that year we made plans to drive to my mom's for Christmas. I'd spent the previous weeks gorging on all the treats that make the holidays spectacular. I ate everything. At home. At the company holiday party. At the drive-thru on the way home from work. It was the holidays, after all. Why stop? By the time we left for my mom's, nothing fit except a pair of sweatpants and a XXL t-shirt.
When I walked into my mom's house she and my fiancée stole away and then called for me. They told me they were worried about my weight. I wasn't healthy, they said.
I looked at my sweats and ratty t-shirt… and agreed. Nothing had shrunk; I'd just been getting progressively bigger. I was fat and had to do something about it.
I thought about how much I'd been eating, how much I'd always ate. Then I thought about how much money I'd spent on clothes every time I'd "shrunk" my wardrobe.
There was no doubt about it: gastric sleeve surgery was for me.
Later that year my fiancé and I flew to Mexico. I had gastric sleeve surgery, and It was AMAZING! I'm down 150 pounds. I'm more active than ever and the two most important women in my life, my girl and my mom, both tell me how great I look.
I did have to buy more clothes-but this time they were smaller, and this will be the last time I have to overhaul my wardrobe.
Posted by Guest.