Pleasantly plump is an old-fashioned term of endearment/way of saying that someone has a bit of meat on their bones. A bit plump. It is something I grew up hearing said and something that I never, ever wanted to be. You see, I wanted to be tall and slender. I got the tall part. Ish. I’m 5 foot 7 so I am on the taller side of normal. The slender part I also got….ish. I am much too hourglass shaped to ever be slender unless I stop eating all together.
For years I kept a running tally of everything I put in my mouth. I always ate more than I should have to get as close to slender as I liked but little enough to keep myself from going crazy. It consumed my mind always. Should I be thinner, should I eat less, should I try this diet or that one, should I give up bread, should I give up meat, should I give up cheese, should I give up sugar?
You see, it was my anxiety talking. It was an ever-present buzzing of the voices in my head, the quickening of my heart, the shaking of my hands.
If I gain weight will I be good enough?
If I gain weight will I be loved?
If I gain weight will I disappear?
If I gain weight will I…..
Endlessly. To the point that I could eat more because it was like I was on speed. I practically vibrated.
Now, thankfully I am no longer vibrating. In fact, I can sit still for hours at a time if I like. Yep. And often I do. Ensconced on the couch with a blanket, writing. Unfortunately the lack of vibration has also had another symptom.
I am turning pleasantly plump.
Since going on medication, I have gained ten pounds on top of the 5 pounds I really wanted to get rid of. Is it because of the medication? I don’t know. I think it might be a part of it but not that the medication made me gain weight….instead it quieted the voices in my head that never allowed me to eat a second serving of ice cream in the past that always made me question every bite of food that went in my mouth.
I’ve determined that pleasantly plump can be a good thing. You see, I prefer being pleasant. My medication helps me be a more pleasant person. I like that. Does it make me plump? Maybe. You know what, though? I choose pleasant. Even if that means plump comes with it.
I choose pleasant….and I think my family applauds my decision. It’s part of my chasing happy and part of theirs too.
Now excuse me while I enjoy my croissant while I walk (because plump doesn’t have to mean lazy. I walk like a madwoman. Especially while eating croissants.)