So much of our lives are focused on numbers and letters. The scale reveals our weight; the tags on our clothes tell the size of our waists. I used to be ashamed of those numbers and letters in the sixth grade. I was eleven years old, two hundred and one pounds, and one of three fat girls in class. I remember using Wite-Out to camouflage the size on the clothing label just in case my tag popped out of my neckline during recess. I’d even remove tags with bright orange scissors or my small, chubby hands to avoid seeing them on a daily basis.
I made my way back to XL thirteen years later. But this time I was not embarrassed nor was I ashamed to say hello. I embraced the size with open arms because I know my self-worth is not determined by letters on labels or digits on a scale.
XL is no longer an enemy, but an ally. XL reminds me that while I am fat, I am also fabulous. Welcome back, XL, my closet missed you.