The story of my life goes alittle like this: I'm a normal-sized girl trapped in a world where size 0 runsrampant and XS pervades every department store. Unfortunately, when thatlong-awaited time of year comes to find the "perfect dress," all thethin girls go on the hunt and force me to hang my head in shame. With Big Mac inhand, I set out with two things in mind: accomplishing mission impossible -finding a dress, and wondering if there's a restaurant nearby.

Most girlshave to find a dress that is dyed the perfect color or sprinkled with enoughglitter or brings out their blue eyes. After finding ten dresses that are justfabulous, they narrow it down to five and then choose the most expensive. I, onthe other hand, search for weeks (months, even) just to find one that camouflagesmy butt and doesn't make my arms look so flabby. I end up settling for one thatthe saleswoman refers to as "quite slimming" in a less-than-desirablecolor; I look in the mirror and think about hanging myself with the matchingshawl as the sales rep reminds me, "Honey, you're not a size two." Myresponses usually are, "I'm glad. At least the skinny girls can't steal allthe dresses in my size," or "Mom, when's lunch?" The salespersonshakes her head with pity and I can tell she's thinking, Poor little chunky girl.

One time, I was trapped in line for a dressingroom behind a girl who was complaining about not keeping up her diet and anotherwho was convinced her butt had doubled in size that year. It was funny, really,because the one girl looked as if she hadn't eaten in months, and if the othergirl's butt had doubled in size, it must have been painful for her to sit before.I gave them a confused look and told them that if my butt doubled in size, Iwould no longer be able to fit in the dressing room. They didn't find that ashumorous as I did and began to talk about some great asparagus diet.

Once dressing rooms opened for them, they insisted on coming out to viewtheir dresses in the three-way mirror. This, I am afraid, is too bold a move forme, as the three-way mirror only allows me to see things I want to forget arethere. Call me crazy, but it looked as if one of them was actually prancing. Iwas waiting for her to break out singing "I Feel Pretty," but thatdidn't happen. Darn.

I've come to realize that I will never say, "Idon't know, it's kind of big in the hips" or "This dress practicallyfalls off of me." But that's okay, because I have been blessed with thegreat ability to laugh things off. I don't obsess about my butt or my eatinghabits and just because I don't have a "small" following my size"extra" doesn't mean I'm ashamed of my excess. After visiting 324 dressshops in the state of Florida (and I assure you of this number), I've realizedthat in a world full of zeros, I'm proud to say I have a few on them.