Big Job for a Big Girl

Whelp. I did it. I started applying for new jobs, and I had an interview last Thursday. Ben helped me as I tried about six dresses on (I don’t have “professional” clothes– it’s either “boho”, “hobo,” or “cocktail hour”), but I was pretty happy with my choice. It’s just an interview, but I’m cautiously optimistic. Ben also bought me flowers and wants to take me out to dinner to celebrate when our schedule finally calms down (all the girly gushing).

The interview went really well, and even if I don’t get it, it’s fine. I did the thing. That’s a good first step. When I finished answering all of their questions, the first thing the director said to me was “I can tell you are a theater person, and that’s a great thing.” I mean, I know I’m animated, but the idea that I have a strong presence is a strange concept for me to grasp. I spend so much time trying to make myself smaller in every way, because life has told me I take up too much space.

I’m unaware that my presence takes up a large space, and that is unrelated to my size.

It freaks me out. I don’t want to be “too much.”

But something has changed. Getting this interview seemed to have help “flip a switch.” Tech week was crazy and I didn’t have time to think about it… But I’m eating again. Not bingeing. Just eating. I’ve been taking time to make yummy food that’s still healthy, but I can get excited about. I’m not crying all day, falling asleep at my desk, and some of my pain is subsiding. What a novel concept, I know.

I’ve listened to “Health At Every Size” twice now, and so many podcasts. I feel like I’m trying to un-brainwash myself. But I swear, I think it’s working… My brain still feels like it’s on fire, but instead of the screaming— it’s a dull roar.

“Autonomy” is the magic word of the day. I’m allowed to make choices about my life without the imposed restrictions. I’ve spent way too long accepting whatever is given to me just because society has told me I should be grateful for any recognition of my existence at all. I am still grateful, but that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed make choices that honor who and what I am.

Imposter syndrome is yelling pretty loudly, but in this moment, I’m excited to give myself a shot at something that is more in tune with my needs for communication and fulfillment. It’s uncomfortable, but nothing worth shooting for is ever squishy and cozy.

Deep breaths. Keep Going.