The grass ain't greener in Skinnyville

Editor's Note: If you live in a cold climate, you may not want to read this. I'm trying to make a point here and I don't want you getting mad at me right off the bat that in April, it's warm enough where I live to be at an outdoor pool party. If this is an issue, stop reading now and come back in a week or so when I've had time to post about something else.

I was at a pool party / BBQ a few weekends back at a neighbor's house. My 3-year-old was so excited to go swimming in their new pool, our first invite to use it. I was dreading it. A bathing suit in front of my neighbors? And ones I'm just getting to know, to boot? No, thank you, that's what my husband is for.

I get to the party, two kids, a husband and a Cocker Spaniel in tow, and we settle in the back yard. Our hostess, a wonderfully nice woman, asks if I'm going in the pool. "No," I say, "Hubby is going in."

"Not feeling up to a bathing suit?" she asks me.

"Not so much," I reply.

"Me, too," she says. "Didn't want to put it on in front of so many people." She pats her stomach.

"I know what you mean," I say. "Still a few more baby pounds to lose."

Suddenly, my commiserating friend turns on me. Her brow furls. "What are you talking about? You're so thin! I hate it when skinny people say stuff like that!"

OK, folks, I admit it, I am a "skinny people." A size 4, sometimes even a size 2. Go ahead, hate me. But understand that if you're going to hate me for being thin, I'll have to find something to hate you for, too. The grass isn't any greener over here in Skinnyville, trust me!

Not only am I skinny, but parts of me border on scrawny. My ankles are bony. As are my knees and my elbows. My hips are at least 1 full size bigger than my waist. My waist, by the way, is too high. My skin is the color of paste. The only tan I've ever had came out of a bottle. I have stretch marks (sorry, "marks of honor") from the weight gain during my 2 pregnancies. The only way I can fill out the top of a bikini is if I buy it with the suit. My teeth are crooked and I hate them. So much that I decided 2 months ago that braces would be a good idea. (31 with braces? Have I lost my mind??) My naturally blond hair is now highlighted with gray. My pores are too big. My butt is too small. Getting the picture?

I might be thin, but I'm certainly far from perfect. Short of the Baywatch babes, I don't know that you'll find another skinny woman (or any woman for that matter!) that wouldn't change a thing or twelve about the way she looks. I'm no exception. "Skinny" doesn't mean anything except that my dad has a great metabolism and I inherited it.

Remember the old Pantene shampoo commercial, where Kelly Le Brock (the model with the gorgeous, thick hair) would say, "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful"? Let's try this... if you can get a tan, have straight teeth, nice hair or a chest, then don't hate me because I'm skinny. Otherwise, I'll just have to blog about you behind your back.