I attended tonight's meeting of the Tracy Express Network (a local chapter of the American Businesswomen's Association).
During the networking portion of the evening, I was chatting with an engaging woman from New York Life. We were talking about all the illnesses that seemed to be going around this spring, which both of our husbands caught with gusto. I told her that I get very worried when my husband is ill, because he's such a thin guy, adding that I don't have the same concern for myself. She chuckled a bit and looked me up and down. I realized then that this woman had no idea I have ever looked contrary to the way I do today. I let the subject drop and we parted ways to mingle further.
We caught up again a few moments later when another member, a woman I know rather well, greeted me by calling me "Skinny." She made a comment to the New York Life agent about how great I looked. Finally, I let the agent in on the secret.
"You have no way of knowing this, but I used to be almost 200 pounds heavier than I am today. That's why calling me 'skinny' is humorous."
She was obviously shocked and after congratulating me, said she never would have guessed. I told her that I realized she had no idea based on her reaction to my earlier comment about my husband.
"Truly," I told her, "I have to be careful. I often forget I'm no longer a big girl and will make comments that come off as insensitive or rude."
It's not that I'm a narcisist who thinks the world revolves around her. It's just that I've chronicled my weight-loss experience for so long and so many people approach me in public about it that I forget it's not common knowledge. And then there are times like tonight that jolt me back into reality. I assume that the further out I get from surgery, the more common it will become to meet people who assume I've always been thin. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to it. I want to say that it'll become old had after a while, but that's hard for me to picture. I guess time will tell.