I have absolutely awesome body image. And I mean awesome. When I look in the mirror, I have an uncanny ability to look right past my extremely rounded face, huge arms, expanded stomach and crazy fat thighs. For whatever reason, I just don't see myself as overweight when I look in the mirror.
Last night I as in a hurry to get ready and I was rummaging through my drawers trying to find a pair of jeans. I haven't worn jeans in months but I decided I wanted to and turned my room upside down trying to find The Pair. I laughed as I sorted past the size 12, light washed jeans I purchased on sale from American Eagle about two years go - the jeans I dubbed "goal jeans." I smirked at the size 14s shoved at the back of a drawer that had signs of wear but hadn't been worn in over a year. I swallowed hard as I held up a pair of size 16s that fit about six months ago, realizing the waist band was a few inches too short and then, as I found a pair of size 18s - one of only two pairs that I allowed myself to buy -I winced, knowing that I arrived at the right pair. I started to put them on and laughed nervously as they appeared to be a bit tight. And by a bit tight, I mean I thought I confused the 18s for the 14s. What. The. Fuck.
I ripped them off, found the second pair of 18s, absolutely sure that the first pair had been a victim of shrinking in the dryer. But I was surely wrong and my dryer had committed no crime; the same defeated feeling overcame as I struggled to make the zipper stay put.
Le sigh.
Yes, that was the moment when I knew it was time to face the music. I mean, it was one of the moments when I decided to face the music. Technically, I've known I needed to do something about my health/fitness/fatness for a few years but I always managed to convince myself that since I knew I could lose weight when I was ready, that I could just wait. Instead of busting my ass in the gym, I was sitting on my ass watching TV. Instead of perfecting muscle tone, I was perfecting angles in the camera to make me look as tiny as possible. Without actually being tiny. To be honest, I'm not sure which is harder: working out to get skinny or working to convince yourself and other people that you're skinny without actually being skinny. That's exhausting just thinking about.
So there I was, with tight jeans on - or kind of on - looking in the mirror and finally seeing it. Yep. That's what fat looks like. And I don't even need the whole politically correct verbage to spare my over-sized feelings. Fat is just fat and in the wise words of Dr. Phil, I'm not even going to sugar coat it because I'd eat that, too.
Right before Ethan left, I told him about how he didn't need to worry about me while he was gone because I was going to spend the next ten months working on me. And so far, all I've actually accomplished is watching two seasons of Pretty Little Liars, season one of Army Wives, and about 15 minutes of Weeds. Totally unacceptable.
And at risk of sounding self-pitiful, one would think that being kicked to the curb by your BFF, left behind while your husband deploys for a year and finally having a 9-5 job freeing up most nights and weekends would be the perfect recipe for self reflection, aerobic activity and tedious healthy cooking. Quite honestly, I'm just as disgusted with my vast wasting away of time than I am of my expanding mid section and ass. And to be even more honest, despite the fact that my only wish in the entire world is for my husband to come home soon, soon, soon... I will totally regret not spending these next few (lol - few?) months focusing almost all of my attention on myself. How many chances do we really get like that after marriage?
This picture is of me in April of 2007, a little over five years ago and about eight months before my husband and I started dating. The funny thing is that I absolutely remember this time in my life and I felt absolutely huge. I was dieting super hard and working out and telling myself that I needed to get smaller and smaller, and I was absolutely never satisfied with the end result. I mean, seriously? Look at my little arms! Look at my flat tummy without having to suck in! Look at my thighs - that while thick were still attractive?! And can I also add that those jeans were size 12s? I bought them on impulse - two pairs actually - after finally being able to ditch my 14s after months of hard work, sweat and Lean Cuisines.
And at risk of sounding self-pitiful, one would think that being kicked to the curb by your BFF, left behind while your husband deploys for a year and finally having a 9-5 job freeing up most nights and weekends would be the perfect recipe for self reflection, aerobic activity and tedious healthy cooking. Quite honestly, I'm just as disgusted with my vast wasting away of time than I am of my expanding mid section and ass. And to be even more honest, despite the fact that my only wish in the entire world is for my husband to come home soon, soon, soon... I will totally regret not spending these next few (lol - few?) months focusing almost all of my attention on myself. How many chances do we really get like that after marriage?
This picture is of me in April of 2007, a little over five years ago and about eight months before my husband and I started dating. The funny thing is that I absolutely remember this time in my life and I felt absolutely huge. I was dieting super hard and working out and telling myself that I needed to get smaller and smaller, and I was absolutely never satisfied with the end result. I mean, seriously? Look at my little arms! Look at my flat tummy without having to suck in! Look at my thighs - that while thick were still attractive?! And can I also add that those jeans were size 12s? I bought them on impulse - two pairs actually - after finally being able to ditch my 14s after months of hard work, sweat and Lean Cuisines.
Ah, just looking at that picture has me craving dates with the treadmill and 100 calorie packs for dessert. So, flashing back to last night's rummage through my jeans and I made a huge decision. Those size 12s? They are once again Goal Jeans and before my husband comes back to the good 'ole USA, they will be The Pair that I'm searching for - not for laughs, but for actual wearing purposes.
While a size 12 isn't "skinny" to most people, and is still considered to be "plus size" in the fashion industry, it's what's do-able for me. It's what will make me feel better inside and outside and what I know I can achieve within a year's ten month's time frame. It's what my husband will appreciate because, to be 100% honest without a care if it's TMI - hubs happens to like a little junk in the trunk.
So here's to the start of a 10 month journey to be a better me. I'm going to be taking "before" pictures tomorrow - gag - and doing an official "start" weigh-in, and from there, I'll be writing weekly progress posts. I'm not going to lie, I'm damn excited to stop being such a fatty. I'll probably cuss myself and whine and complain and pretend like I'm miserable, but in reality, I'll be so, so, so excited and by the time my E comes home, I know I'll be crazy proud of myself.
So here's to the start of a 10 month journey to be a better me. I'm going to be taking "before" pictures tomorrow - gag - and doing an official "start" weigh-in, and from there, I'll be writing weekly progress posts. I'm not going to lie, I'm damn excited to stop being such a fatty. I'll probably cuss myself and whine and complain and pretend like I'm miserable, but in reality, I'll be so, so, so excited and by the time my E comes home, I know I'll be crazy proud of myself.
Let's do this.
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