As I stated earlier, I have lost about 25 pounds in the past year. I’m very proud of myself for this. Things that I listed before that were impossible for me to do, are much more attainable and things I never thought about doing, I can actually do!
- I can bend over and touch my toes. Sometimes, I can even get my palms on the floor
- Where as I couldn’t get 20 kicks in without being exhausted, I can now do 40 at a rip
- I can swing a 20lb kettlebell which my boss thinks is astounding. She just bought a 20lb and says it’s “so heavy!”.
- I can do ten pushups (ok.. on my knees but last year I couldn’t do one.. not one)
- I can wear my bent barbell navel ring without a problem. I had to take it out and switch to a closed ring because the barbell kept twisting because of the fat fold. It was painful.
- I can run up a flight of stairs.
- I can squat down AND get back up without pulling myself up with my arms.
- I can shop for clothes without feeling like ZOMG NOTHING FITS AND I’M SO FAT!
I used to be very very skinny… too thin some might say. I used to eat whatever I wanted and burn those calories off like nothing. I slowly let the weight creep up on me. I remember when I first bought a pair of size 10 pants. I was horrified!
Stay with me here, okay? I know now that size 10 isn’t fat! But remember, I was a size 4 for a very long time.
I remember being very depressed. I remember getting angry at myself. Angry for “letting myself go”. I remember trying to convince myself that it was the cut of the pants or that they “ran small”.
Then I had to buy a size 12… and a size 14.. and a size 16.. and OMG those jeans are an 18! I stopped wearing skirts. I hid behind baggy clothes. I was ashamed of how I looked. Everytime I “outgrew” my clothes and had to go up a size I went through it all over again. The anger, the frustration, the depression.
Over my body size.
Who I was didn’t change. But how I felt about myself really did. I allowed the size of my body affect how I felt about myself. I lost confidence in every aspect of my life. I didn’t feel worthy of nice things. I didn’t feel sexy or attractive.
Today, I went shopping for clothes. Today, I bought size 12 skirts and was thrilled that they were a size 12! I’m feeling healthy and getting fit and my body is changing because of it.
Size 12… that same size 12 that had me in fits of depression and feeling miserable five years ago. And I don’t feel like I’m getting “skinny”. I feel like I’m getting healthy, because let me tell you, at size 4 I couldn’t lift 20lbs so I certainly wasn’t going to swing 20lbs.
I don’t really care what the numbers are on the tags. The number 12 doesn’t freak me out anymore. For a long time I deceived myself into thinking that the number on the tag defined who I was, what I looked like, what people thought of me.
But what I’m finding is that the new found confidence I have in what my body can do as opposed to what number some clothing designer assigns to it, has a lot more to do with how I carry myself.
A clingy sweater and a size 12 skirt looks a hell of a lot better now because I’m standing up tall. I’m confident. I feel great. I’m not slouched over feeling ashamed of how “fat” I am.
I’m still working to get in shape. If I’m a size 12 for the rest of my life I do not care. My body will find it’s natural balance wherever that may land on the clothing spectrum.
It’s freakishly liberating.
Edited- 1/17/11 1:00PM
Since this is actually getting some attention, I thought I’d add a pic I took this morning. (please ignore my socks that are busting out of the dresser drawer, mmmkay?)