That was right after college. I moved home and wasn't very happy about life in general and the fact that I didn't feel good about myself wasn't so much helping. I soon moved to my own apartment because I figured 22 was a good enough time as any to become a responsible adult. It was around this time that I stopped living in denial. Up until then, I'd look at pictures of myself and ignore how heavy I'd gotten. "It's just a bad angle," I'd think or, "It must be that shirt so I'd better not wear it anymore."
I signed up for Weight Watchers Online and started being very strict about what I was eating and drinking. I was shocked (shocked!) at how small a normal serving size seemed and I struggled with finding filling foods (alliteration FTW!) so I wouldn't binge on a bag of potato chips at 4 AM. Luckily, Heidi had already been using the program, so I went to her with all of my many questions.
I was amazed (amazed!) when I started shedding weight. I lost 10 pounds within two weeks and, while the weight loss slowed after that, I was still losing weight every week. Eventually I got to the point where I could fit both arms inside the waistband of my pants (hot!) and, EVEN MORE ATTRACTIVE, the ass of my pants was hanging so low that it looked like I'd pooped myself. I'd lost something like 50 pounds. At this point, I went through my closet, gleefully trying on clothes that were now about four sizes too big and then throwing them in my Goodwill pile.
I still didn't feel like I looked any different, no matter how many people I ran into that hadn't seen me in months. They'd be all, "wow, you're not a fatty anymore, congrats!" but I didn't entirely believe them. To be honest, I still don't feel like I look much different. And lately, for some reason, I've been feeling really down about myself. I don't know why but I think it might have something to do with the fact that A) it's summer and B) I wear a bathing suit a lot more during the summer.
I've decided that this is ridiculous. I should be proud of the way I look because HELLO I lost 50 freaking pounds. I tend to downplay that. Like it wasn't hard to do even though, um, it was totally hard to do.
I went from this:
to this (please also notice the perfect Guitar Hero score in the background):
I should be proud of that.
My next goal is to stop worrying so much about whether or not I gain or lose a couple of pounds because WHO CARES as long as I'm healthy. I feel like I'm always waiting for that time when I'll lose 10 pounds or "look better" and, just, what? What does that mean, "look better?" Why can't I look OK right now?
So do me a favor. The next time you're standing in front of the mirror and your first thoughts are along the lines of, "do these pants make me look fat?" or "oh, muffin top, I beseech thee, GO AWAY," tell your brain to STFU because you look awesome. I know this is totally Stuart Smalley but seriously . . . you're good enough, you're smart enough, and goddamn it, PEOPLE LIKE YOU. And they also want to do you, because you're hot. So, you know, deal with it.
