Saturday, September 26, 2015


My calendar says I'm due for an update! Here it is:

Why can't I forget about losing weight? Because I spent a decade thinking it was true. I spent all of high school telling myself to lose weight. I spent all of college telling myself the same. I even spent all of middle school saying this to myself. Was this ever true? Sure, a small fraction of the time. Barely. Is it true now?


I'm quite happy with how I look and feel. I might need a better haircut, but I have definition in my shoulders, thighs, and calves. Sure, I still have that little pooch of stomach fat. Does it really matter? I have some pretty good muscle under there.

I'm still drawn to talk of weight loss. It entices me. Like I just can't get used to the fact that I'm fine where I am.

I'm healthy. I feel good. I look fine. The end.

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

Don't look at me!

As far as body image goes, I think I'm way more confident than I used to be. However, I have issue with the weight loss thing, and how people view me. I seriously keep panicking about the entire thing. Last April, a family member commented that I'd lost all the baby weight. I totally closed in on myself and could barely get a word out about it. This weekend, a different family member who we haven't seen since November asked me where I had put the rest of myself, because I'm so much smaller. I laughed it off and said that was my baby weight. Inside, I wanted to know whether she thought I'd looked bad before. 

Finally, after much thought, I realized I had a different problem. Sure, I thought I had gotten past caring what people think. But no, I still do. I don't want people to look at me. I just want to hide. I think I'm radiating much more confidence these days, and a bit of that is acting, and a bit is trying to shove off some of the realization that people are looking at me. I try to forget that my hair, when down, looks like Hermione's hair in the first Harry Potter movie - except there's random crimps in it all over; when up, there all sort of flyaway "bangs" from the hair regrowing my postpartum hair loss faze. I haven't gotten a hair cut in 10 months, and I need to, but it's not a priority.

It try to forget that my pants fit my middle weird. I try to forget that I'm not wearing makeup anymore, or that my shirt is stretched out from nursing or that, whoops!, my nipple is hanging out because my 13-month-old surprised me and took off during our session. And the snot on my shirt. And when did I bathe the kids last? Yes, that smell is coming from us, sorry.

Okay, maybe it's no wonder I don't want comments about my body. My point is, I need to let go. I need to stop caring. Why do I seize up so much about the weight issue when I'm not doing anything to change the rest? Sure, I accidentally dipped my hair in the smoothie, but comment on me losing weight and WHOA! Stop right there!

Okay, yeah. I've gotta work on this.