You’ve heard of beer goggles, right?
It is a phrase I heard used a lot in college (of course during my heavy drinking days) that is talking about when someone has drunk so much alcohol that they don’t realize that the person they are hitting on in the bar is completely unattractive.
Trust me, the second I heard the term, I immediately assumed from that point on that any man hitting on me in a bar had “beer goggles”.
Talk about low self-esteem! Heaven forbid that I might actually have something to offer or that I may be seen as attractive to the opposite sex.
When I met my husband, I had been sober for 3 years. I had lost about 60-65 pounds at that point, so I had some newfound confidence but was still about 30-40 pounds more than my goal weight.
We met through friends (at a bar coincidentally) and immediately clicked. I thought he was really cool…for 2 reasons:
1) He was wearing a Mets hat (not many Mets fans are brave enough to announce to the public that they are, in fact, fans). Being raised a Mets fan myself since birth, I usually came across annoying Yankees fans. It was definitely more rare to meet someone who liked the “other NY baseball team”.
2) He saw me cheat when playing cards (don’t worry, it’s allowed in the game if you are capable of getting away with it) and didn’t tell.
I knew I liked this guy.
I developed a crush on him almost immediately. We became MySpace friends (way back haha) and started a friendship. I always saw him talking to lots of girls, so I didn’t have much hope. I decided to go against my normal instincts, however, (sort of like George Costanza) and see what would happen if I actually put myself out there for once.
I invited him to my house one night when I was having friends over to play cards and hang out. He said he’d come and he ended up asking me for my number (purely platonically of course) so that he could call if he needed directions to my place.
This led to texting…
which led to IM-ing…
which led to us talking pretty much everyday.
I was totally into him by this point.
After about 5 months of us being friends, I got up the courage to ask him one night if he had ever considered me as anything more than a friend. Hell ya, confidence! I had totally put myself out there. Now granted, he was giving me major signals and signs that he was into me, too, so it was actually easier than I had thought it’d be.
He said no, he hadn’t.
I was crushed. I could not believe that I had been wrong. I was so sure that he felt the same way about me that I had about him. I had put myself out there, using the little shred of confidence I had felt and I had been shot down.
At this point and with zero self esteem left, I assumed with all of the signs he had given me that he must have been just looking for a casual fling…a “friends-with-benefits” scenario…so I very carefully explained that I was not looking for that kind of relationship. I was very blunt and was all about showing how much respect I had for myself. I was not looking to be used. I was good enough to be someone’s girlfriend damn it.
I was cool about it, though. Said we’d just be friends then.
We continued our friendship as if nothing had happened. For a day.
Then he called me one night on the way home from a family barbecue. We talked for over an hour and I could tell he didn’t really want to get off the phone. At 11:30, he said, “Oh wow…it’s 11:30, I had no idea how late it was.” We finally hung up and the next morning, I had a text on my phone from him. From about 15 minutes after we had gotten off the phone (I guess I fall asleep quickly haha). It said, “I knew how late it was the whole time we were talking. I just didn’t want to get off the phone. I’ve changed my mind. I want to give this a shot if you still do.” My heart just about stopped.
From that point on, we were dating. We clicked instantly and I knew that we going to be together.
I felt comfortable with him from the start, but at the same time, I was completely guarded. I really, really liked this guy and was super afraid of getting my heart broken.
Within the first 3 weeks, poor Joe was told every deep dark secret about me (and I’m all for honesty, but this was done way before any normal person would have spilled it all). Looking back, I am super lucky I didn’t freak him out enough (he was definitely freaked out, but luckily not enough! haha) to actually walk away from me. It was a pour-your-heart-out-and-leave-no-stone-unturned-so-there-will-be-no-surprises-later kind of thing. I’m still glad I did it. This man knew me. And he still stayed.
Well, almost knew me. I left out one major detail.
He didn’t know about this:
It took me 6 months of being together before I had the courage to tell him that I used to be fat.
I was so embarrassed of the way I had looked and was afraid he wouldn’t like me when he found out.
I was afraid he would be embarrassed of me.
I was afraid he wouldn’t want to be seen with me.
I was afraid he’d be made fun of by his friends for being with a fat girl.
Those thoughts scared me so much so
that this girl
who can’t keep anything secret for 2 seconds
kept this big secret for six whole months.
I can remember the night I told him like it was yesterday. I couldn’t even look him in the eyes.
His response, “Ya, I know. So what. You don’t think I saw you in the pictures downstairs in the hallway? I know what I see and I think you are beautiful.”
In my head, I had been keeping it a secret.
When really, he had known all along.
Stay tuned for Part 2 tomorrow!