Friday, May 10, 2013
I currently have no real idea of what I look like. The image of me that I keep in my head -- my internal avatar -- is outdated.
I was walking behind a lady on my way out of the train station. I was, out of terrible force of habit, comparing my body to hers. She was not thin but curvy and, I thought, very attractive. I thought to myself as I have many many times before "I'd love to look like her. I don't want to be rail thin, just nice and proportional."
Then I walked past her and caught sight of the two of us in the mirror. And I was much, much smaller than she was.
When you spend your whole life comparing notes, it can seem surreal to realize that you are closer to your goals than ever before. I no longer want to look like anyone other than me. The best possible me. And I'm moving towards THAT me every day.
But the terrible habits I've picked up over a lifetime of body struggles remain. Scanning each room to determine if I'm the fattest one there. Looking at other women's bodies as though I'm clothes shopping: "I'll take the toned size 6, please."
While I consciously know I am smaller, and consciously am focused on improving my own body, these awful thoughts still appear.
Another issue is my clothing. It is too early for me to buy clothes -- I know because things I bought just back in March no longer fit me. When I get to my goal very little of what I purchase now will be useable. But I think my use of oversized clothing promotes this sense of body distortion, this belief that I am much larger than I am. Today I have on a size XL sweater and a size 14 skirt and everything is literally sliding off, having to be readjusted every time I walk. I can't wear this stuff and I can't buy new stuff. I'm in an in-between stage and that makes things harder both practically and emotionally.
Don't get me wrong, I am ecstatic about my weight loss and super enthusiastic to keep moving forward. Only 3.5 pounds to meet my goal for the month!
Still, I think it will take a little while for my mind to catch up to my body.
Last weekend, I was sitting on a friend's lap (we were crammed into a photo booth). I perched as gingerly as possible, trying to bear my own weight with my legs so as not to hurt him. But after a moment or two, I realized he was fine and I just sort of . . . let go. Relaxed. I expect more and more of these moments of relaxation will come and with them, I hope, more comfort with my new size.