But at the same time, I couldnt help but sympathize with the women who had felt left behind.
Thats a topic for a different piece).
I woke up one morning a size 11/12 and never really changed).
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This was considered an act of great bravery and consequence in the name of art.
Then, I found on Macy (not her real name).
And she offered me a third option.
Macy is low-level famous.
Her job involves being great-looking.
The moment I stumbled on her Instagram was jarring.
Was I crazy, or did this chick look exactly like me?
Her cheekbones were high, but her face had a pleasant fullness to match her fuller-than-normal lips.
Her limbs are doll-like.Despite her seeming perfections, the similarities between us are real and undeniable.
Our mutual features became an embarrassing obsession of mine that I couldnt help.
I sent her Instagram photos to my mom and sister, who all dutifully marveled at my beautiful lookalike.
I brought up the concept of doppelgangers so I could impress people with my own.
This is all shameful to admit, but more shameful was the transference of confidence I allowed to happen.
Macy poses for Instagram photos in her underwear.
Macy wears clothing that shows off her stomach, a soft one, not a six-pack.
Macy didnt hide, and, though Im not proud to admit it, it made me hide less.
If she could do it, I could do it.
However, Macy was paid to be beautiful, and we looked somewhat alike.
The proof was in Macys pudding, and it helped.
I posted pictures of myself that werent intentionally ugly or ironic.
I took better care of myself.
In fact, Id estimate that Macy went from being around midsize like me to being a size 00-2.
It is, of course, Macys right to do this.
I guess I got excited that for once the images and the messages werent negative.
And unfortunately, I paid the price.
That confidence I adopted from her confidence?
That worth I had built through the worth she received for her looks?It evaporated in an instant.
I realize howIngrid Goes Westthis sounds).
I thought she had already achieved what anyone would wantto be considered beautiful and desired.
In that same instant, my vain obsession turned negative.
Macys newly-sharp angles bothered me endlessly.
This is getting ridiculous now!
And of course, more painful still was the newfound success she received.
Much like Adele, Macy seems happier.
Shes certainly more celebrated than ever.
Her star was rising now that she was thinner.
As far as the saga of me and Macy goes, its over.
And not just the physical parts, but the things Ive always loved.
