This particular blog post related to weight isn't a complaint, and it isn't even a celebration. It's just an observation.
I have lost enough weight that I had to buy new clothes. (In SPITE of Hubby's remark that I should hold on to the old ones, because I might need them again..... Yeah, he's sleeping on the sofa. Wait.... We don't have a sofa. That love seat will probably get mighty uncomfortable.) I got rid of everything that was a size 16, and I bought a bunch of things in a (much?) smaller size.
Oh hell, they're 10's. I don't know how long it's been since I wore a size 10. A long time.
But my brain apparently doesn't lose weight very well. When we went shopping, I had a cart full of shorts, capris, and jeans, all size 10. I tried on Each. And. Every. One. Of. Them. Because when the first one fit, I assumed it was a fluke. Same with the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth ones.
I proudly hung those things in my closet. When I started to get dressed for school today (jeans, and let them fire me if they want to), I was convinced the jeans wouldn't fit. They fit. Hallelujah, they fit. And I can breathe. And I don't have that ugly red welt around my waist..... you know the one I mean.
What is it with (some? many? God I hope I'm not the only one) women who struggle with their self-images? People have commented on my weight loss and called me things like "skinny" (I'm not), even people I don't know well. A woman who used to take line dancing with me stopped me at the "Y" last night and said, "How many?" I was flattered and pleased that she noticed and she took the time to compliment me. But part of my brain still asked, "How did she know?"
The mirror still shows me the (fat) girl I've been seeing for years. My self-perception of what I look like is no different from the picture I had in my mind last summer.
Why can't I wrap my brain around my own triumph? I know I have developed some better habits, and I had to know it would EVENTUALLY pay off. When the Team Lean challenge was going on, I was motivated by the weekly weigh-ins. I was somewhat nervous when the challenge ended, because I was afraid I wouldn't keep pushing myself at the same pace. (Please, someone, please call my therapist NOW.) I was happy to learn that the "Y" is having a Team Lean Maintenance program for the next 12 weeks, with monthly weigh-ins instead of weekly. That's perfect - still makes me accountable, but isn't the burden of being here every Thursday during the (short) summer. The first weigh-in was last night, and I had lost an additional three pounds since the challenge ended three weeks ago. That's a pound a week, in case you are math-deficient.
But I have a hard time accepting it as real. I'm afraid, like the impostor syndrome, that my success is all a sham, and therefore it will go away. I'm going to wake up one morning and have a clothing crisis because I sent all those size 16's to goodwill. Maybe that's the reason I have put the weight back ON at least twice in my lifetime. It's a self-fulfilling this-is-too-good-to-be-true syndrome. (I like making up on own psychological terms as I go along. I'm working to get this one copyrighted too.)
I promise I'll try to write about something other than weight problems for a few days. You're welcome.