This post has been languishing as a draft for a few weeks. I was being a bit of a wiener about putting it up, so I'm scheduling it to post while I'm away (so I can't change my mind.)
Last year I had pneumonia and lost a bit of weight. Even though physically I felt like crap, it was the first time in a long time I felt happy with the way I looked. So of course it was completely logical for me to go out and buy my wedding dress. I bought my dress from a sample sale. Wedding dress samples are sewn for women who are 5'8" (which I just happen to be) so I ended up with a dress that fit me perfectly with no alterations needed (and for 60% off the regular price ... can someone please be as impressed with this as I am?)
Anyone who is more in touch with reality than I am knows that when you lose weight from being sick, you gain it back pretty quickly. Which I did. Then it was Christmas and I added even more weight. I cannot say no to baked goods. If there was a Baked Goods Anonymous I would be a member. A member that routinely slipped up and fell off the wagon, but a member nonetheless.
After Christmas I decided that I was going to take control. I know that I eat too much sugar. I know that I snack too much and make unhealthy snacking choices. I decided that rather than try a diet (which would be setting myself up for failure seeing as I have little to no willpower) I would come up with the Skinny Bitch Rules. For example:
Skinny Bitches eat salad with their dinner instead of garlic bread.
Skinny Bitches drink sparkling water with a twist of lime instead of pop.
Skinny Bitches do not drink midweek because that one glass of wine with dinner is just gratuitous calories.
Skinny Bitches walk the dog, every day.
Things were going well. The pair of jeans I bought at Christmas started to feel a bit large. My arm flap was less droopy. I started to feel good about myself.
But then the Crazy crept in and started twisting the Skinny Bitch Rules. All of a sudden, Skinny Bitches drink black coffee for breakfast and Skinny Bitches don't snack between meals. I saw Turtle last weekend and she told me that when she hugged me, I felt bony. I cannot describe how good that made me feel and how ashamed I am to admit it. I don't want being thin to feel like an accomplishment. I want to feel healthy and strong and, yes, thin. I've seen the term "fat skinny" floating around recently (but I don't know who coined it so I can't give credit where it's due.) This is what I am. I am not overweight but I am unhealthy. I doubt that I could run up a flight of stairs without being horrendously out of breath when I got to the top. I have no upper body strength. I have not lost weight healthily so my body is not balanced - I may feel bony up top but I am thick and jiggly on the bottom. Every day I become more and more pear-shaped.
The way I look shouldn't matter. I'm smart and funny and I make great cookies. I'm 5'8" - I will never be considered petite. I will never (healthily) weigh 100lbs. I need to get over it. I need to find balance. Somewhere between drinking black coffee for breakfast and eating pancakes with berries and cream for breakfast is my happy medium. My oatmeal with skim milk and cinnamon. My oatmeal is the place where I'm okay with being a different size on the bottom than I am on top. My oatmeal is the place where I'm happy with eating grilled vegetables instead of steak for dinner. I just need to figure out how to find my oatmeal.