I never understand how my dog gets herself so bent in half.
She always falls asleep so deeply like this tho, usually right at my feet.
It’s been in the back of my mind for a couple months now that even tho I’m still wearing the same size pants (12s and 14s), that my weight has maybe gone up significantly (and maybe even irrevocably) and so I’ve been afraid to weigh myself.
Last year this time I was on a journey from the 170s to the 140s, and the thought of being back there again hurts. I had a doctor appointment last week and I knew I’d get weighed and I would navigate it when I had to. But not before. I was 157 and I wasn’t upset about it. I assumed it would be 160s and it was actually motivating to find that I wasn’t.
I haven’t had a lot of body issue issues recently. No, I don’t necessarily *want* to be this size. But also, when I look in the mirror, I don’t feel bad about myself. In fact, most of the time I look in the mirror and feel pretty average. It’s a strange thing. I know I’ve been at this size before and felt fat and ugly and unlovable and undesirable. But I don’t right now.
Sometimes I do wonder how my husband contends with having had me in my 130s compared to the 170s. Sometimes I do think “man, I felt so much sexier in my 140s, when my stomach was flatter and my ribcage was more pronounced; how on earth does he not think this is gross?” But also….so what? He doesn’t and who am I to question that? He’s had ups and downs too and it doesn’t really come into factor in a tangible way for me.
Confidence certainly factors in. He feels more confident when he’s more fit. I get that. So do I. There’s a glow that comes when you are working to achieve a thing and successfully achieving it. So, the reverse is true too. There can be a dulling when you aren’t working toward self-happiness. The dulling can be, by design, not as sexy.
But I digress.
I am simultaneously content with my body as is, because it’s mine and allows me the luxuries of being alive and living, and also I would like to be kinder to it so my body and I can have more time being alive and living.
Today I went thrift shopping for jeans because I have no pants and it’s getting cold. I found a pair I was content with. I was willing to spend the six bucks on something now that I didn’t love, but liked enough. Turns out the blue tag was 99 cents today. Score! Turns out too that once home, I really love the jeans. And I’d like to think it doesn’t matter….but it was a comfort still to know that they’re a size 12. Maybe it’s not irrevocable after all.