adipose

I am now comfortably one entire size smaller than I was at the beginning of the year, which was when I got serious about managing my PCOS.

The last twelve or so months have been empowering.  I’m not as sad, angry, or self-conscious.  And it’s not about the weight loss.  In fact, that only came after I learned that I have value, which happened after standing up to some toxic people in my life.

Turning 30 isn’t scary to me.  I imagine by the time December rolls around, I’ll be even more comfortable in my own skin and my own mind.  My life could take some very unexpected turns in the coming years and it’s terrifyingly exciting.

I can’t decide if this post is about size or state of mind and while I’d like to say that I’m beyond caring about my size, there seems to be a correlation.  I’m never going to be small.  (I don’t want to be small.)  But I want to feel good…and I do.

My assistant is around 12 years older than me.  She is small and fit…and she hates her body.

I still struggle, but I do love my body.  I’m forgetting what it’s like to hate myself.

I’m still conflicted about my weight loss. I want to make a shirt that says, “I’m not losing weight because I started eating better foods and eating less. I was already doing that. I’m losing weight because I finally found a doctor to treat my metabolic disorder.” But then everyone would say, “Every fat person has a ‘metabolic disorder,’ you’re just making excues…you just need to put down the fork.” And what do I say to that? One of my biggest fears for the latter half of the year is that I’ll go to a wedding or some other event and people will start wispering about whether or not I had bariatric surgery.

sarahbeara:

I’m wearing my skinny jeans, yet I am not skinny.