I went to a conference last week with my boss. It was fun and the conference was very motivating and informative, and I got an appointment to go visit my old job, which was awesome. I guess it wasn't a big deal (getting an appointment with people you know really, really well), but I was pretty proud of it anyhow, since my new job really couldn't have done it without me and was so happy to see them, and they were happy to see me, so she saw how missed I was.

Today started out fine. I ate the same breakfast I read a Success Story person eats. I took a portion-controlled meal to work. I had an apple for a snack. I was productive, was getting tons done, and was all-around satisfied.

Then, my boss came into my office. She'd been saying there was something she wanted to talk to me about for a few days, but kept forgetting what it was. She remembered, finally!

She closed the door.



She told me that for this next trip this week, please make sure I pack more blazers this time, because some of the conferences are more fancy than others, so sweaters are fine for work, because it's work, but for the type-places where I used to work, it's better to be more formal. And what I wore the day we came back to work was good, "with the heels."

She was kind, but not sneaky enough. After she left, I wanted to cry. So I closed my door again and did.

I did wear blazers to the conference. To my old job (which is one of those "DC-type" jobs--people hear where you work and go ooooh!, but it's really not that big of a deal), I did wear a sweater or something (I think). I thought about it. I considered what other visitors had worn when I hosted them. There may have even been a passing thought or two about what my boss would think. But in the end, I made my decision based on what I wore there every day for FOUR YEARS. I wouldn't have worn such a thing to a different type-place, but for this one, I mean, com'on. I KNOW how to dress for that place, way better than she ever would.

And, well, yeah, I wore a nice suit the day we returned to the office, because my blazers were at the dry-cleaners, and because it was one thing.

One thing, because when I was packing, I looked at all my nice suits, and I knew that, before I packed them, I'd have to try them on. I've gained 15-20 pounds depending on the day since I accepted this job offer, and I'm not even 5 feet tall. I just couldn't take all that rejection from my suits. When I got back, I was able to put one on and wear it, so long as I left it unbuttoned.

So I really feel like this was unfair. I left everything for this job, for this chance to work with her. I left my husband, and my house, and even my only overweight-bordering-on-obese body and upgraded to the next larger model. Now I feel like she took my pride, too. And I just feel like I suck. My biggest fear in life is getting in trouble for something I didn't know what wrong or didn't do...I know this doesn't qualify as trouble, but criticism from an authority figure counts.

I didn't tell her all this. Maybe I should have, but I was so gobsmacked by this, that I just agreed. But maybe she should know I'm not an idiot, and that I KNOW HOW TO DRESS FOR THAT PLACE, because I did it EVERY STINKIN' DAY, but I wouldn't have worn the same thing for strangers. She's struggling with weight; maybe she should know that I'm limited by the wardrobe I bought for who I planned to be the heaviest me ever, and that a teeny-tiny portion of the blame for my extra-voluptuousness belongs on her for being dumb enough to hire someone who doesn't know how to dress themselves appropriately in business settings.

And that she really hurt my feelings.

I should take this as a challenge, or put a positive spin on it. And I will. But first I need to get all my crying out. And maybe drink a (light) beer. Or two.