You all know that I lost a shit ton of weight over the last year. Yes, I feel great. Yes, I know I look different. I mean, I’ve seen the photographic proof. I’ve seen the numbers both with weight and the inches. Somehow it never seems to be enough. But do I ACTUALLY believe I am beautiful? Will I ever feel awesome about myself? Will the former fat girl in me ever leave me alone? I actually found some clarity recently, but I still think it begs the question:
What does it take to make you truly feel awesome about your self?
Does someone need to tell you?
Does something need to happen?
Fitting into and shopping for smaller sizes?
Being comfortable on an airplane?
Wearing a bikini with confidence (how the hell do you do that)?
Running 3 miles without stopping?
Did losing weight make me beautiful or is that what I thought it took to be beautiful? I lost all the weight… WHY DON’T I FEEL BEAUTIFUL??
I’m not certain what the answers are for you; however, it took a whole lot of the above for me to finally get there. Why did it take so much? Is it so hard just to believe that I am worthy of feeling this way?
Frankly, yes it is hard to believe. When you have struggled your whole life with weight, it is hard to even fathom that you could actually be in the body you always imagined having. I could look in the mirror or take a thousand pictures of the new me, but it still isn’t enough. Yes, my spouse has told me I look great (but he is SUPPOSED to think I’m beautiful no matter what, right?). Yes, my family has told me (same rule for them that applies to the spouse). I love when my 4 year old tells me I’m pretty, but would he tell me that anyway? It’s kind of dumb when you think about it, but when you get attention from strangers… That is kind of the ultimate validation. A low whistle when you walk by. Being hit on at the bar. There is something awesome about finally reaching a pinnacle where a total stranger finds you attractive enough to make a comment, in which case I blush furiously, shake my head and flash my wedding ring reminding them that someone got there first. The person who always loved me no matter what size I was.
But alas… there is more. Other things needed to happen. Shopping for smaller sizes- when the sales lady asks if you need another size and you say, “Yes, can I try that in a 6 (holy shit)?” Or you come out of a dressing room and another person says, “That dress looks amazing on you. Definitely buy it.” When I got on an airplane in August and I felt comfortable in my seat and at Disney where I never felt too big for the rides (too short… well, that is another issue). I shopped for bikinis last summer and actually didn’t hate it (there is proof… but I am much to shy to share it here). Being able to run a 5K without blinking. Running a 5K in 33 minutes. Wha?? The old fat girl I used to be couldn’t do that. Signing up for a 7K. Considering a 10K. The old me wouldn’t have been able to fathom running either of these distances. The old me wouldn’t have been running at all!
Holy crap. That’s a lot of work to feel awesome about myself.
All of this is finally a reality for me. I finally feel beautiful and awesome, but not because I lost weight. No. It is because I finally started believing in myself. There is a confidence in my step. Even a little ego in my smile. Guess what? I’ve earned it. I worked hard for it. I will need to work hard to keep it. I’ve got this.
Will everyone else have to continue to work as hard to remind me?
Nope, because I’m already there.