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Having been a big girl the majority of my life, I have developed this allergy to confining clothes, particularly undergarments. I credit my mother for it. (When all else fails, blame Mom.) 😏

As a developing pre-teen, Mama would force me to bind myself in a longline bra and girdle every Sunday; so much so that it became a way of life throughout high school, and I would even wear them when I dressed up for school. I loathed them, but Mama said…So, I did.

Needless to say, as soon as I graduated, my first act of rebellion was to ditch the pinching bra and girdle and go regular bra and pantyhose or just full commando underneath dress clothes. Okay, so, maturity (and weight gain) set in, and I graduated to panty girdles. Mind you, it was nothing I had to fight to put on; it was just enough to keep things from moving around too much. For years this has been how I’ve held things down, so to speak, underneath my clothes.

In spite of all I have just shared with you, I don’t know what possessed me to buy a pair of Spanx a few weeks ago. I mean it had to be Satan, right?! 👀 I fault my friends who swear by Spanx and sing their praises regularly. I was intrigued, and I canNOT resist trying something new at least once. (Again, I blame Mom.)

Well, one Saturday night in a stroke of inspired genius, I bought a pair. Sunday morning I get up and am all excited about how great I’m about to look in my dress because of this fix-all undergarment. I shower and sprint to the bedroom, because I am going to look FABULOUS! I remove them from the packaging and marvel at how small they seem, but I figure the geniuses at Spanx know what they’re doing. So, I commenced to put them on. I tell you, the sweat fest that ensued was nothing less than legendary, and frankly, I needed another shower when I finished yanking and squatting them into place. It was indeed a show, but I’d bought them and insisted on wearing them at least once.

While encased in my Spanx, I developed an unhealthy fear of restrooms. I was afraid, if I pulled them down, I would have to return them to their original position or either throw them away in disdain or pure hatred. (Choice number two was NOT an option in my dress of choice.) Therefore, no restroom before, during, or after church for me. I walked by the door needing to go in yet knowing what awaited me if I entered: bladder relief, followed by a sweat fest, and putting things back in place. (e.g. dress, shoes, makeup)


Home was never a sweeter place than that Sunday afternoon. I peeled Satan’s creation from my body, went to pee, and texted my friend.

Me: Okay, soooo…I bought Spanx yesterday and wore them today. There has GOT to be a better way! 👀👀👀

Her: Lol!!! There isn’t!!!!

😒 I submit there is! Is there anyone who will join me for a Spanx-burning party?!

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