I’m torn so much these days about my body. I am torn between being frustrated with how I look, frustrated enough to make the kind of changes I made last time I lost weight, and knowing that acceptance of where my body is at now, not where it was a year ago, is key to my overall happiness.
Last week I saw the scale creep up too much for comfort. I’ve been eating my feelings,
snacking binging on the nut & dried fruit mix I got to help deal with afternoon hunger. Even I can’t handle that much irony. It was only a pound more than the range it had been hovering in, but it tipped over the line to a number I swore I would never see again after I gave birth to H. So I joined. I have 36 ounces of milk in the freezer, I at least owe it to myself to give it shot. If it kills my milk supply, I’ll move on and hope that a little detox helped me move past the straight up emotional face stuffing. So far so good. My old standby healthy protein option has been dairy, so that has been an adjustment for sure. The milk supply issue is still up in the air. I am pumping enough for daycare so far, and the scale has been slowly moving down. (Monday is my normal weigh in day, so I know things have improved, even so slightly since Friday when the straw broke the proverbial back)
Yesterday I went to Target at lunch, to get some soy milk so I could start making my own coffee again. I also thought perhaps I would visit the plus size section. I need jeans. Our family trip means I need more than one pair of casual pants. Jeans make me feel human in a way that something with an elastic waist never will. Target jeans however can kiss my arse. All thin & showing of too many imperfections. The leggings I got to go with my gray dress were more flattering.
I have this vision of what I want my style to be, even at this size. I pay attention when I’m walking down the street, to the big girls like me. I look at what seems to work, what doesn’t. I notice the confidence some women have. I notice the shame too.
I see myself pulling off leggings and jersey dresses. I see myself wearing my cute flats. I see myself wearing jeans that fit. Straight legs, thicker denim to hide the little imperfections, stretch, but not too much. I see myself in jewelry, dangling earrings, maybe I statement necklace some day. I see myself in fun scarves like a French woman.
After work, and Twitter consultation, I went out shopping. What I found, was not what I expected. I found designer mom jeans at Nordstrom Rack (and I didn’t even buy shoes!). I found boot cut jeggings (I swear that they don’t look like jeggings and that the name has got to be some horrible marketing ploy) at Lane Bryant. I found some of the comfort with my body that I was looking for.
It isn’t what it was, it never will be again. It is however worth everything. It isn’t perfect, but it is right now. Right now is perfect.