The Elephant in the Room...

So there is one VERY obvious difference between LA and the Midwest that I have avoided talking about for quite some time now. Not because it doesn't come into play in my life nearly everyday, but simply because acknowledging it, especially so publicly, makes it real. And having this become real puts me at risk for being uncomfortable and possibly feeling bad about myself. However, the point of this blog is to be open, honest, and push myself; embracing change and new experiences. So, in that spirit, it's time for me to admit that when I go almost anywhere in LA, I become the elephant in the room.  Like, literally the largest person in a sea of toothpicks.

**DISCLAIMER: I do not think I'm fat.  You may think I'm fat, and that's fine, you are entitled to your opinion. I am also not writing this for sympathy or reassurance.  I am not fishing for complements.  I'm trying to broach a topic that plagues FAR TOO MANY women today with some honesty and humor. Hopefully it will at least make someone smile; at best I would love to help someone feel like they aren't so alone when they are sitting on a bench outside of a store that makes seemingly child-sized clothes, waiting for their friends.  Also, for those of you that have never met me in person, I am 6 feet tall. End scene.

Ahem, back to my original point. Seriously.  I'm not kidding. Most days it feels like this:

 Buuuttt some days it feels like this:

I'm swear I'm not exaggerating either. I have never bumped into so many things with my ass when just trying to walk through a place; tables, clothes racks, bar stools, the occasional person in yoga class... it is pretty obvious that the businesses of this city are not planning for people of my stature and girth as their clientele.