I think I may have finally stepped into an honest to god stall this month. I've stepped on the scale a few times here and there and it has stubbornly stayed within half a pound up or down from where it was when I did my "official" weigh-in last month. So unless my body suddenly ramps up and burns off a few pounds in the next week, I may be declaring April the Month of The Stall.
I am amazingly calm about this fact. Maybe it's because I'm hovering around 200 pounds, and I've heard so many accounts about people's weight refusing to budge when they hit that range. Or maybe it's because I have been slacking a bit in the exercise department, only working out twice a week instead of 3 or 4 times a week. Or hey, maybe it's because I've eaten a few too many carbs lately, a little too much sugar. It could even be that I've only managed to weigh myself when I was PMSIng or the morning after a salty meal. Who knows.
But I'm still shrinking; I've shifted firmly down from 18/20 range into 16/18 (all my 18 bottoms are getting too big and all my dresses are 16s or XL). My boobs are perking up, smaller but not as droopy; Kevin is relieved that my prediction of ending up around a D cup seem to be coming true. My little baby turkey neck thing is finally starting to tighten up thanks to some very expensive face cream (okay, it was midrange expensive but still!) and there is a new muscle visible in my calf. So I know that my body is still doing it's thing, rearranging itself and becoming something new and maybe it needed so much energy to make the physical changes visible that it didn't have any left to get rid of a few pounds.
I'm a little shocked that I did not freak out this morning when I saw what the scale had to say; that's usually what I do, followed by a quick slide into a deep, deep funk that takes massive amounts of self-talk to get out of. It's a process that greatly distresses my husband, so for his sake I am thrilled beyond belief that today my reaction was completely different. Instead of my usual funk slide, I walked out the door in one of my (impossibly small) adorable new summer outfits, with a flower clipped into my (completely fucking awesome) new haircut and man, there was no way for me to be in a bad mood because I look beyond cute today.
I'm having a lot more of those days lately, days when I take one last look in the mirror on my way out the door and think "Damn girl, you look GOOD!" Maybe it's because of the anti-depressants or the fantastic new clothes I've bought lately, but I like to think that I'm finally coming around to really and truly loving myself exactly how I am right this second. It's weird, because I thought I really liked and accepted my body before I had the surgery and lost all this weight but I'm realizing now that I simply tolerated it. Looking cute for me depended an awful lot on how well the clothes hid my flaws, how well they covered me up and made me acceptable to be seen in society. It wasn't about actually thinking I looked good. But now it is. Now I put on a dress and realize that it hugs my curves just right. I know I am walking around with more confidence, more comfortable in my own skin. And I am loving feeling this happy and this at home in my body, even right now when my body is my own personal science experiment.
There are, of course, things about my body that I am not entirely thrilled with. But I'm trying to get over that, bit by bit. So this summer is the Summer of Embracing The Arms. My upper arms would make any retired grandma in Florida proud because they would make me fit right in down there. Flappity is really the best way to describe them, but I'm getting over it. And I'm doing it by wearing strapless bras and tank tops and sleeveless dresses and just not caring what people might think. And guess what? I've watched people and no one is recoiling in horror. No one is shielding their eyes or running away or looking disgusted. Really, no one is noticing my arms at all. Amazing but true!
So all in all, I'm in a good place right now, despite the whole "dude, you're in a stall" thing I have going on. At least I am today. Check back with me tomorrow.
I am amazingly calm about this fact. Maybe it's because I'm hovering around 200 pounds, and I've heard so many accounts about people's weight refusing to budge when they hit that range. Or maybe it's because I have been slacking a bit in the exercise department, only working out twice a week instead of 3 or 4 times a week. Or hey, maybe it's because I've eaten a few too many carbs lately, a little too much sugar. It could even be that I've only managed to weigh myself when I was PMSIng or the morning after a salty meal. Who knows.
But I'm still shrinking; I've shifted firmly down from 18/20 range into 16/18 (all my 18 bottoms are getting too big and all my dresses are 16s or XL). My boobs are perking up, smaller but not as droopy; Kevin is relieved that my prediction of ending up around a D cup seem to be coming true. My little baby turkey neck thing is finally starting to tighten up thanks to some very expensive face cream (okay, it was midrange expensive but still!) and there is a new muscle visible in my calf. So I know that my body is still doing it's thing, rearranging itself and becoming something new and maybe it needed so much energy to make the physical changes visible that it didn't have any left to get rid of a few pounds.
I'm a little shocked that I did not freak out this morning when I saw what the scale had to say; that's usually what I do, followed by a quick slide into a deep, deep funk that takes massive amounts of self-talk to get out of. It's a process that greatly distresses my husband, so for his sake I am thrilled beyond belief that today my reaction was completely different. Instead of my usual funk slide, I walked out the door in one of my (impossibly small) adorable new summer outfits, with a flower clipped into my (completely fucking awesome) new haircut and man, there was no way for me to be in a bad mood because I look beyond cute today.
I'm having a lot more of those days lately, days when I take one last look in the mirror on my way out the door and think "Damn girl, you look GOOD!" Maybe it's because of the anti-depressants or the fantastic new clothes I've bought lately, but I like to think that I'm finally coming around to really and truly loving myself exactly how I am right this second. It's weird, because I thought I really liked and accepted my body before I had the surgery and lost all this weight but I'm realizing now that I simply tolerated it. Looking cute for me depended an awful lot on how well the clothes hid my flaws, how well they covered me up and made me acceptable to be seen in society. It wasn't about actually thinking I looked good. But now it is. Now I put on a dress and realize that it hugs my curves just right. I know I am walking around with more confidence, more comfortable in my own skin. And I am loving feeling this happy and this at home in my body, even right now when my body is my own personal science experiment.
There are, of course, things about my body that I am not entirely thrilled with. But I'm trying to get over that, bit by bit. So this summer is the Summer of Embracing The Arms. My upper arms would make any retired grandma in Florida proud because they would make me fit right in down there. Flappity is really the best way to describe them, but I'm getting over it. And I'm doing it by wearing strapless bras and tank tops and sleeveless dresses and just not caring what people might think. And guess what? I've watched people and no one is recoiling in horror. No one is shielding their eyes or running away or looking disgusted. Really, no one is noticing my arms at all. Amazing but true!
So all in all, I'm in a good place right now, despite the whole "dude, you're in a stall" thing I have going on. At least I am today. Check back with me tomorrow.
4 Comments:
Okay, you've GOT to share what kind of face cream you're using, because seriously, your neck and jawline are tight!! Don't keep it a secret!!
Don't laugh but it's just Avon Thermafirm cream. I use it at night and seriously, it worked like magic. You can use it twice a day for faster results supposedly but I'm all about making it last longer.
Serious? That's awesome because there's a couple ladies here at work that are Avon reps. I'll have to check that out! Thanks, Melinda!!
Hey, that's so sweet of you to say. Thanks for the kudos on my last entry. It really means a lot.
I know about the stall thing... I'm living it. Take your measurements though. Even though my scale isn't really moving, my body is shifting.
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