Differently Alike

I don't know why I felt compelled to speak to her. I wish I had not. But I did. And now I am fuming. That Bitch! Yeah, with a capital "B"! I'd seen her around the ship a few times and in the dining room last night. At first sight, I was amazed. She was – I don't know – everything I dreamed to be. She was attractive…great hair, nice clothes, perfect posture, a contagious smile, and a body I'd kill for. Each time I saw her, I was even more in awe. When I saw her by the pool today, I had to tell her what I thought. That was a huge mistake...

Oh! Forgive me! I'm rambling on about some woman I just encountered on a cruise ship, and I haven't even told you about myself. I'm Katherine Piper Wilson, age 27, engaged for two years. If you ask how tall I am, I'd tell you 5'6", but that's not true, unless I am wearing my 2" chunky heels. Chunky. Because I can't walk nicely in the sexy kind. What about my weight? Right…I don't know. I won't get on a scale. I guess I would describe myself the same as my heels…Chunky. My fiancé says I look fine. He doesn't care what I look like. Should that make me feel good? What he doesn't understand is that I do care what I look like. I want to be skinny. Like her! By the way, just call me Katie!

So, back to that huge mistake... I think the best word to describe her is radiant. Or maybe it would be charismatic or vibrant. Heck, I guess all those words fit. Each time I saw her around the cruise ship, my eyes were magnetized to her. Is that what they call a "girl crush"? I certainly wasn't thinking anything sexual. I was just so envious! Dammit! She had smooth and shapely arms and legs. Not like those girls you see on magazines at the grocery store, with masculine looking muscles, but she just looked, I don't know, "natural"? Then I talked to her and got a whole new image of her. Why do pretty people think they can be so rude? I was giving her a compliment! I don't know why I thought she would appreciate a Chunky Chick telling her how breathtaking she is. Apparently, she is already aware of how incredible she is and has no tolerance for those of us who aren't her equal! 

Here's exactly how it went: I was laying on a chaise by the pool, reading a book, "Another Story" by Carsen Laurence. The sun was bright and the reflection off the pages was making it difficult to read, so I lay my head back and closed my eyes. As I do far too often, I began to feel self-conscious, and apologetic for wearing this hideous swim suit that doesn't hide my chunkiness. I love the suit, actually. The top is navy blue with big, white polka dots. It ties around my neck like a halter top. The bottoms match and have belt loops and a white belt that ties in the front. I saw it in the store and knew it was perfect. Now, however, I felt like a whale on exhibition at an Aquarium.

Crap! If the sun is reflecting off the pages of my book, it is likely doing the same off my ghost-white skin. I am wearing 30SPF sunblock, which probably just enhances the whiteness! Now I'm a giant white whale in the Aquarium. My stomach began to turn at these thoughts, wondering if people were offended by my appearance, so I decided to go back to my stateroom and put on clothes that would hide me.

Tossing my book into my tote bag, I slipped my flip-flops back on and wrapped a pool towel around myself. Thank God, they are huge towels! I walked around the end of the pool and then I saw her…That stunning woman…why is she everywhere? My heart jumped, and I felt the heat in my skin. Okay, the book I'm reading is about becoming a better you. Self-help, my favorite genre, although I fight against them...I'm trying. Right at that moment, seeing her comfortably basking in the sun, proudly showing her skinny, tanned body in that fantastic bikini, something came over me. I felt a strong need to tell her that I admire her. That she is amazing. No, I'm walking away.

I hadn't turned away or stopped gawking at her when she sat up and looked directly at me, like she somehow knew I was there, looking at her. Crap. Crap. Crap! Wait. Breathe. I must do it now. She is alone, although the chair next to her has a towel laid out and has clearly been occupied, probably by her boyfriend or husband I saw with her in the dining room? If only he had still been there and maybe she wouldn't have seen me, instead talking to him. 

I was glad I had spent some time composing my words in my head over the last couple of days, as if I knew this opportunity would present itself. After all, I was about to tell another female that I envy her body. Not just that though, it was her whole presence: the way she walked, the way she smiled, the clothes she wore. She was so self-confident! She was skinny and looked good in every outfit I'd seen her in, including that sporty two-piece swim suit she was wearing. I would love to have a body that looked good in everything I put on. 

My rehearsed presentation went like this inside my head: "Hi! I'm Katie. I have seen you around the ship many times and would like you to know that I admire you. You have a remarkable physique, and I am envious! I would be proud to look as great as you do in everything you wear! And you do it with such grace and confidence." I would be smiling the whole time and it would flow perfectly.

Reality was a little different. I let a smile take over my face and walked with as much confidence as I could while tugging the pool towel tighter around me and clutching my tote in front of myself. The woman stood up, put her bag over her shoulder, and took the towels from the chairs, the whole time looking around as if to find a route of escape from me.

"Hi! Um…can I take a minute of your time?" My voice came out pathetically squeaky and lacking any confidence.

She looked annoyed, and said, "Uh, sure." Then she stood with her arms crossed in front of her, holding her towels, tote bag, and drink bottle, with her weight shifted to one foot and her eyes still darting around. She was ready to make an escape.

"Well, um, I-I don't mean to be creepy or weird or anything like that. I just can't help to notice you. You are gorgeous, umm…stunning…so skinny…you look good in, I mean… this is coming out all wrong." My face was burning, and I hoped it appeared to be sunburn rather than embarrassment. 

I re-started, with my lip trembling and my tongue feeling like a cotton ball in my mouth, "I just mean I envy you to have such a nice body, and everything you wear looks great on you. You are fabulous. I wish I could be like you." I noticed that as I continued stammering, she had settled her eyes on me, an annoyed expression on her face. She even had the nerve to look me up and down, and I saw her mouth draw up in disgust when her gaze crossed my mid-section, which I was trying so hard to cover with the damned huge-but-not-huge-enough towel. 

There was an awkward silence as I caught my breath while she stood looking at my beet-red face. I choked a few more words out, not sure if they were audible, "Well, I just wanted to tell you that."

I felt humiliated. Beads of sweat were trickling down from my hairline. I had that uneasy feeling all through my body, like I had just downed an entire Mountain Dew on an empty stomach. I wanted to disappear. That did not go as I planned it in my mind.

She smiled, sort of, like it hurt when she did it, and said, "Huh. Well, thanks."

She turned and walked away. It's not that I expected her to jump up and down and hug me, "Oh, thank you! No one has ever said such wonderfully nice things to me. You are an awesome person for telling me!" No, I didn't think that would be her response, but maybe, "Thank you. I'm flattered." That would have been nice.

I was fuming. Had I seen it coming, I would obviously not have approached her. I was sure I had just ruined my entire vacation. I stood there like an idiot as she gracefully glided away. Then I began searching the ship for my fiancé. When I finally found him, I started my tirade and my darling, sweet, loving fiancé had his eyes glued to my lips, nodded on occasion and interjected a couple of "hmm's" as he does when he listens to me jabber. It's something that I adore about him. He really listens to me, hears me, and understands me. I know with certainty that today he is trying awfully hard to be engaged in my monologue, while inside his head he is wondering what will be on the buffet tonight and will they have chocolate cake for dessert. Still…he was giving me his attention, putting me first. My Dad was the same way, he listened to me. I miss my Dad.

"…and she had the audacity to look me up and down as I was saying these things to her…"

"…judging me for my size and appearance…I was being nice! Why did she have to be so rude?"

"Uh-huh" That was his second interjection. He was hanging in there with me…!

"…like I'm a troll or a rodent…stomp on my feelings…I want to scream at her…" tears started down my cheeks. My prince charming pulled me close to him and hugged me, letting my tears dampen his t-shirt.

When I had squeezed out the last possible tear, and he had changed into a dry shirt, we headed to the dining room for dinner. We enjoyed the dining room experience on the ship. Our reserved table for two was waiting for us, draped with a white linen tablecloth and set for a multi-course meal. The salad fork and dinner fork were lined up evenly on the left and the knife, teaspoon, and soup spoon were to the right. In the space between the silverware was a silver charger where our plated meal would be placed. On top of the charger sat a linen napkin, folded to resemble a sailboat. A tiny bread plate sat to the side, with a butter knife laid across the top edge. Tempting me from the beginning of the meal was a dessert fork and spoon laid horizontally above the charger. Want something to drink? The table was set with a water glass, wine glass, and coffee cup and saucer. It was so elegant that I took pictures of it…more than one time! 

"Seriously, Katie, why are you taking pictures of the table?" He clearly wasn't as impressed with the presentation as I was. I grew up eating my meals straight from the package…potato chips, Hostess cupcakes, and TV dinners in aluminum pans. Standing at the kitchen counter was typical at meal time. He, on the other hand, had a mom who made big meals and the family sat at the table together to eat. 

"It's so elegant! I don't want to forget about the cruise!"

The table setting was not the best part though… our Dining Steward, Maarten, took care of us as if we were his only table. I was dumbfounded at how he remembered our names, our drink preferences, and our special requests. On our first night in the dining room, I asked for extra butter. On the second night, my extra butter was already in the silver butter dish, kept chilled by the ice under the perforated cup which held the butter pats. They looked like they had been squirted from a cookie press, just like the Spritz cookies my grandma used to make.

We ordered from a different menu each night. Some nights, it was difficult to choose, so Brent and I would each order differently and then share. Same thing with desserts. Well, not the same, because we didn't share those, we each just ordered two! Yes, I felt a bit guilty doing that, until I realized the couple across from us was frequently having two appetizers, their main meal, two desserts, and then after-dinner drinks.

People told me I would gain weight on the cruise. They were right. I don't know how much I gained, because I refuse to get on a scale. But I do know that my shorts were much more snug on the last day of the cruise than on the first! It was worth it…I would go on a diet when I got home!