bigger and better
bigger and better
I have gained weight. There, I said it. I was told I would probably gain weight while on Paxil, but that's not it. It started before then. It's a combination of a lot of things; complacency, bad eating habits, not enough time in the day to exercise properly and my changing metabolism.
I carry my weight well. I certainly don't look like I did say, three years ago when people kept asking me if I was sick, or even two years ago when I think I looked my best. And I've finally learned to be ok with that.
It's obvious how much my metabolism has changed in the past year. I used to be able to eat what I wanted, when I wanted. I used to be able to get away without exercising too frequently. I used to wear tight clothing and look good in it.
I still had this mentality, until last week, that I could squeeze into my old clothes. Or that I could shop in the same aisles as I used to, buying the same sizes and swearing that this was just a phase and I would fit into these clothes in just a week or two. Shopping was incredibly frustrating. I would try on pants that just recently would have looked great on me, and they only made me feel fat and uncomfortable. I left a store more than once in tears.
I refused to acknowledge that my body has changed. I started exercising every single night. I ate healthy food. I drank tons of water. I starved myself. But still, the weight stayed on. And still, I packed myself into uncomfortable clothes, and shopped for the same old sizes and swore that the weight was coming off.
Well, it wasn't. And it probably isn't.
So last week I went shopping out of necessity. I didn't look at the same old sizes. I moved up to my new size and looked at those numbers only, and when I went into the dressing room to try them on, a transformation happened. I may have gone up a size...or two..or three...but I accepted it. I tried on clothes that actually fit me and felt comfortable instead of living in denial and trying on clothing that depressed me when I couldn't get the pants above my thighs. These clothes not only fit me, but felt good to wear and looked nice. I didn't look like ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag. I looked nice.
Yea, its not a great revelation to realize that you should wear clothes that fit you. But it is a momentous decision to accept that you are no longer a 7 or an 8 or even a 10 and to accept that you probably never will be again. I will still eat healthy and exercise, but I know that this weight is most likely here to stay. I'm ok with that. I am not my dress size. I am not my pants size. If someone wants to judge me by my body fat content, well fuck them.
Welcome to the new me. A few sizes bigger, but still looking good, feeling good and still the same person I was when I wore a size 7. Maybe even happier.