A Story of Recovery:
Costume Change
Although my training is as an opera singer, I chose an administrative career path and don’t sing much anymore. I am a church organist on the weekend, however, and the church asked me to sing in a service of lessons and carols for Christmas. I was a bit nervous about being out of practice, but I brought God with me to every rehearsal and showed up willing to do my best. I was so grateful, because I realized that before I came into Program, rehearsals and performances were always an excuse for a binge. I would be so scared to sing in front of people that I felt I deserved that reward afterward. What a relief it was to not have to hurt myself with food anymore!
The day of the performance came, and slow preparations and Boston traffic delayed my arrival at the church, so everyone was already in their robes and warming up when I got there. I sat with them to warm up for a bit, and then I snuck out to find a robe that fit. I’m 5’4”, and program is keeping my weight steady at 121 lbs. I came into program at 165 lbs., and my highest weight was 206 lbs., so although my weight has been steady for about a year, it’s sometimes still difficult for me to judge by sight if things are going to fit. The robes were full of complicated buttons, snaps, and ties, and it took me some time to figure out how they worked without the help of my fellow choir members. The first one I grabbed was from the left side of the rack, and it was far too big. I then grabbed one from the right side of the rack, and although the sleeves were a little short, it seemed to fit all right. I looked in the mirror outside the robing room, and I realized this was the first time I could wear a choir robe and not look like a beach ball clothed in a circus tent. Breathing a quiet thank-you to God for my normal size, I rejoined the choir.
I was surprised, as I sat there, to find a couple of people giving me sideways glances. I couldn’t imagine what the problem was – I knew I was singing the right notes. I was beginning to wonder if perhaps my makeup had somehow gone awry when the woman behind me leaned up to speak to me. “Are you wearing one of the children’s robes?” she asked. I looked down. I now noticed that although the sleeves and hem appeared only slightly short in the mirror, they were significantly shorter than the other robes’ by comparison. I smiled, and confessed I’d had a hard time navigating things in the dressing room. After the warm-up, she helped me find a robe that fit, but I had to laugh at myself as I drove home. Only in FA could I have gone from wearing a robe the size of a circus tent to being small enough to wear a child’s robe by mistake!