The other day, while cleaning out the attic, I found a little yellow ballerina tutu that I wore in the 2nd grade. I marveled at the size of it…..such a tiny waist.
For a moment, seeing that tiny waist brought me back in time to my wedding…there, I wore a very petite (for my height!), size 8 gown…with a tiny, tiny waist…I remember people even commenting on it, so tiny…
What the hell happened?
Unfortunately, or fortunately…life happened.
I got married and had kids. Those initial hectic years as I worked full-time, while running around with young kids, probably brought me up to a size 10. You’d think a busy mom wouldn’t have time to eat, but I think you just end up eating the wrong things, like Happy Meals, while on the run. Luckily, good ole Barney the dinosaur continued to sing that he still “loved me” even as I expanded…I guess he could relate to an increasing waist size.
Later, I stopped working to be a stay-at-home-mom, and suddenly (or maybe it wasn’t so sudden), I was a size 12. I would look in my closet and see all the expensive tailored suits lined up from my corporate days (all size 8 and 10)…and I’d just shrug my shoulders and say that I’d lose weight later if I needed to wear the suits again (which I never did, and thank god, given the linebacker shoulder-pads of the ’90’s!)…I do have to say the one positive of the ever-expanding me was an increase in boob-size…I had never really had boobs before. Yeh!
As the years progressed…so did the weight…and eventually the waist size. I finally hit size 14. A real shock for me, and I do recall the horror the first time I went shopping and size 12 no longer fit. I actually bought a pair of size 14 pants and cut out the size label…I’m not sure why. I KNEW they were size 14, who was I trying to kid? The label fairy?
But alas, a size 14 I had become. And for the longest time I remained a 14…but mind you, after a while, I was only a 14 in certain “favorite” labels… and the women out there reading this KNOW what I mean… take 5 pairs of pants to the fitting room, all size 14, and only one will fit, with the others being way too tight…and I’d be a loyal follower of that fitting brand forever, my “favorite”.
I have to say, I didn’t like the fact that I had gained weight over the years…but I still felt like I was not FAT…thankfully, I have the height to hide some of it…but I did psychologically draw the line at size 14. Really. I just wasn’t going to double in size from my wedding day, I mean, from an 8 to a 16, how embarrassing…I just wasn’t going there.
So, I would gain a few pounds…and then about once a year re-commit to lose a few, all in order to remain a 14 (like that was a good thing!). Then, a couple of years ago, I lost 15 pounds in 6 weeks…I was so happy, and kept those 15 pounds off for a full year. I actually started buying 12’s again (only in my “favorite” labels, of course, you know what I mean).
I weighed myself everyday as I was completely committed to keeping that 15 pounds off. And I did, for a long time. But I am an anxiety-prone individual…and I work sitting on my butt. Sitting on your butt all day is not good cardio. The only aerobic exercise I routinely get is for my fingers, which are admittedly slim and supple! The rest of me??? Hmmmm….
And so, I gained the 15 back…well, almost…I am one pound short of that….and I have told myself that I will NOT LET THAT ONE POUND BACK. So I am trying to go back to healthier eating again and back to exercising… It hadn’t really dawned on me, until right this moment, that my focus is on battling that single pound…versus the 14 others I have gained…hmmm….
I think I am doomed as all that stands between that one pound and me is wishful thinking.
And so, I’m sitting here thinking I should be exercising rather than writing (and sitting on my butt) at the moment…otherwise I’ll have to look for a new “favorite” clothing label that will allow me to remain at a 14 (even if I’m not, and you know what I mean).