If I told you how much I weighed (which I am NOT going to do), you'd most likely be shocked. I am one of the golden, one of those who Carries my Weight Well.
I don't really know why this is. I think it's because of the natural shape of my body. I have always had an hourglass figure, no matter what I weighed (except when I was pregnant, of course.) I have large breasts; curvy hips; a full bottom; and a short, well-defined waist. When I put on weight, I do it uniformly so even though I'm bigger I still look proportional. So, yeah, I have a big butt, but I have the big boobs to off set it.
For the most part, I've always liked my figure. I know it's not every one's cup of tea, but I made peace with myself and my body a long time ago. I'm okay with the lumps and the softness and all the curves. It suits me. This weight loss journey has never been about getting thin for me; it's about taking care of myself and my body so I can keep up with my kids and live a long, healthy life.
Having two kids in less than two year killed my body. KILLED IT. Yes, I still have the curves, but they hang a bit lower. I have to put in a effort to make sure all my bits are in their upright and locked positions, if you catch my drift.
Then, there is my middle. My tummy has never been rock hard, even when I was doing 200 crunches a day. I'm soft and always have been. But after my two pregnancies, that softness turned into this mushy, pliable bread dough. So not cute. I hate it. I really, really do. That bread dough has shattered my peace and I'm mad about it.
It looks awful. It's like a permanent muffin top. It makes me look sloppy and not put together and I've really had a hard time reconciling myself to this new addition to my body. Yes, I have stretch marks and sagging boobs. I've carried two large babies to term; these things are par for the course. Badges of honor, even. But my lumpy, bread dough tummy? Yuck!
Yesterday, I put on my favorite pair of jeans for the first time in months. More than months. I don't think I'd worn them since before becoming pregnant with Miles, and they were snug then. When I put them on yesterday, they fit better then they ever had. I threw on a T-shirt and went about my day.
At some point, I caught sight of my reflection in the kitchen window. It was my profile. And I couldn't see the bread dough that normally screws up the figure I so enjoy. I stood up a little straighter and looked again. I looked good. Like va-va-voom good.
I did a few turns, admired myself from multiple angles. There was no doubt about it - I was definitely looking more like my old self. Curvy and soft, but not lumpy and mushy. The bread dough is still there, but it is noticeably smaller.
When Nelson got home he remarked how great I looked (in jeans and a T-shirt!) confirming what I thought. My body is changing. I'm getting it back. And while I still have a long way to go, I feel good.
I can do this. I am doing this.
Down 36 pounds with 50-some to go.
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