So recently, I’ve lost a little weight.
Andy really wanted to drop a few (boys are so vain), so he decided to go low carb, and I was all, hey I love bacon and cheese and meat and bacon!
Now, I’ve gotten a few comments about the weight loss, and if we’re being totally honest, I’ve been terrified to talk about it. When I originally posted my TED video, I mentioned in the opening blurb of the post that I had lost 30 lbs since doing the talk, and I got quite a few angry emails about that. As if I was trying to say, oh here, look at me in my bathing suit, but I pinkie swear I’m way skinnier now, see ya later fatties!
When that totally wasn’t the case. My point was, since finding this place where I respect my body and how it is built, and spending more time buying fun clothes that flatter me instead of crying outside the windows of Anthropologie because I will never, ever, fit into that stuff, something happened.
I wasn’t emotionally eating as much, except during Glee, because season 2 was horrible.
I was more active, because I wasn’t ashamed to be heavier than the other way more athletic people there who’s thighs don’t make that weird rubby-together sound when they run.
I was filling all the time I normally spent eating in my living room, out doing other shit because I wasn’t afraid of my body anymore.
And with all that, came a lightening, both emotionally and physically.
I didn’t say I lost 30lbs to make excuses for what you saw on that video, I said it because I had, and I like to tell you things, and also I was kinda amazed at the revelation.
But, that experience scared me. It felt like I went from constantly having to make excuses for my weight, to needing to defend losing some of it.
Women are not one extreme or the other.
I’m not morbidly obese (fuck you BMI) or rail thin. I’m a plus size girl with big boobs, a post baby tummy flap, bra back fat, and thick thighs. Sometimes I fit into shit, sometimes I don’t.
Weight loss isn’t a victory for me anymore, because I’ve done it enough to know I am one good knocking-up or Costco cake away from gaining it all back.
It’s how I roll.
At my highest weight, I was 260 lbs.
I hated myself.
Shortly after Wyatt turned 3 months, I decided I didn’t want to have this life of going from a fat kid, to a fat teenager, to a fat mom, so I decided to lose the weight. I starved myself, took diet pills, my hair fell out, my nails broke off, I had bruises all over my arms and hands, I ran until my chest hurt, and I was even admitted to the hospital.
Annnd… I still hated myself.
The cycle had to stop, so it did.
No more scale self worth. If I lose I lose, if I gain, I gain, and at this moment, just because I felt like it, I’ve casually broken up with carbs, except, you know, when cannolis are involved, because really, I’m not a robot.
I have no idea how long I’ll be doing this, probably until I want a giant bowl of mashed potatoes, so, I don’t know, any day now. But, I’ve managed to lose about 15 lbs. I’m down to a size 14. I’m good here, and I’m totally digging my big ass right now.
Pssst. Andy totally agrees. In fact, he asked me to stop losing weight. Which only goes to prove, men just don’t care how thin you are; order seconds, eat dessert, bring on the curves!