Imposter

Stand up straight. It helps to keep your gut in.
Shoulders back. You want good posture.
Cross your legs. You are wearing a skirt today.

Her hair was pulled back in a severe and simple ponytail, slicked down along her forehead with a little dab of styling gel. Eyes lowered to the page were heavily and carefully lined with black liner, applied carefully that morning with a slightly unsteady hand. The red lipstick was too much for her dusky face, making her look like someone trying too hard to be fashionable, and making her self'conconcoius. Her mother had always said corals were more her color.
When she rose from her disorganized desk to go to the copier her heels gave her away, inexpertly trying to walk and not make too much noise on the tiled floor. She stood uncomfortably, trying to ignore the slight pain in her toes as she waited for the man in front of her to fix the paper jam and go on his way.  She watched a coworker walk past in her green pencil skirt, perfect white blouse and nude heels. Longing and jealousy rolled over her... I wish I could look like her. 
And she did. Her eyes just couldn't see it, and her mind just wouldn't let her believe it.


Thirteen months ago she was not the same woman. She was almost 200 pounds, a milkshake and burrito junkie who dealt with her anxiety by snacking on Oreos and chocolate milk. It was easy for her to hide behind clothing, wearing long and large pants and tunics that disguised her rolls. Shoes were stable and simple, without heels. She was fat and embarassed, but not enough to do something about it. Until her interview.

Williams & Co. was one of the larger and finer publishing companies around, well known for producing works of science, political histories and biographies of prominent and popular figures. It wasn't every day that they were looking for new client managers and scouts.
So the morning of the interview she dressed in her best suit, black of course, which was meant to be slimming. She straightened her thick black hair and put on lipstick, took her best brief case with various recommendations and resume, and walked into the intimidating white stone office building with confidence and a nervous energy that made her palms sweat.
Waiting in reception to be ushered into the interview, she watched the hustle and bustle around her. Everyone in the office was smiling, walking briskly with papers, books or iPads in hand with a purpose and dressed in trendy clothing from glasses to shoelaces. They all had a similar look, the men and women, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it until she looked down at her folded hands in her  large lap and realized...that they were all in slim good shape, unlike her.
Despite the blow to her confidence she had knocked them out in the interview. They were left impressed with her resume, with her ideas for finding new clients, with her interest. She would find out within the next three days if the job would be hers.
That day she got home and binged on Oreos, thinking jealously and hopelessly about all of the slim and trendy figures she had seen at Williams & Co., convinced that she would never join their ranks, that it was not in her destiny. But she wanted to try! Instead of hiding behind the same tunic shirts and black suits and flat shoes. Wiping her eyes and pushing the Oreos to one side, she brushed her teeth to get the taste out of her mouth and looked online for a local gym, researching two before signing up for a yearlong membership. I am going to be the skinny girl in a pencil skirt, damn it. 

The next day she got a call from Williams & Co. Could she start next Monday? She would have her own workspace and basic benefits, and would start with scouting and helping to manage two accounts. Yes, she would be there.
That afternoon she went out and bought two sets of workout clothes, in turquoise, complete with a sweatband and hit the gym with her brand new membership.
After that first day of puffing and burning, she resolved to go every day for at least one hour. After the first week she enlisted the help of one of the nutritionist/trainers at the gym, and started a strict diet. In a month she had lost close to 10 pounds and found that cherry tomatoes and celery were tastier than she remembered.
The black suit was tossed, and she began to pin her pants at the waist. But when she looked in the mirror she could only see how much farther she had to go...how much more she had to lose.
Her workouts continued on a daily basis, even on the days when it was an effort just to walk up the steps at the gym and she came home too tired to even brush her teeth. She changed her regimen, doing kick-boxing and power yoga and spinning, rotating every two weeks to a new activity to supplement her normal routine.

Her body was like an emerging sculpture...from the encasement of fat and slack muscles a new version of herself began to take form, being chiseled by every moment on the elypitcal and every push-up.  After almost 9 months of dedication her transformation was nearly complete. The clothes she had started working with no longer fit and hung loose. Going up the steps she no longer felt breathless. She felt freer in her movements, but she was still struggling to see herself. When she looked in the mirror she saw the same baggy reflection staring back, superimposed over her face and hips...whenever someone commented on her new shape, complimented her clothes or makeup, she smiled and said "thank you" and inside a little voice in her head was saying "you can do better..."

She stood over the copy machine with her supervisor's notes in hand and shoulders hunched, wearing a smart pencil skirt that showed off her perfect bottom and in a perfectly tailored blouse that showed her great muscle tone, punching buttons to make her copies and trying to keep her head down. The little voice in her head reprimanded her... "stand up straight!"

Despite having worked well with the rest of the staff and receiving various compliments from her supervisors, she still felt like at any moment someone would find her out, realize that she was just an imposter in a pencil skirt and was really a big fat fake that didn't deserve to be there at all.
But you could see the results of her hard work in every project, in every tone muscle...the only one who could not see was she.