The other day I mentioned how grateful I was when the X-ray technician gave me a pair of hospital shorts in a small/medium size. He looked quickly at me before he reached into the pile of shorts, and he presented me with a small/medium. I checked the pile after he left, thinking that they must be out of all other sizes, but there was a large right there, and he could have given it to me. But he didn’t. He thought I was a small/medium.

My weight loss of late hasn’t changed my perception that I am a large, not a medium. I won’t let anyone physically pick me up. I cringe when one of those pedal cabs offers me a ride around the city, thinking that they would be too strained.

So, even though other people may see me as a medium, I’m forever a large in my own eyes.

This is also what I’ve done at work for many years. I wrote a few days ago about the difference between the men who used to sit around the table in our conference room and me, who used to make copies for the men who sat around the table. I think I decided a long time ago that I wasn’t a leader. I wasn’t an entrepreneur. I wasn’t a boss, unless I came about it in a very roundabout way. I would never run a department, I thought. I perhaps would get someone to help me with my department of one, but that’s about it.

Because I didn’t try to think beyond my little cubicle, I didn’t move beyond my little cubicle. I figured I would always be the really good support person and thinker for the real leaders. And my lack of ability to picture myself in other roles led to a lack of advancement opportunities.

I’m sure glad I found the testicular fortitude to stop calling myself a second-tier employee.