I'm officially in the range of normal for my weight. It's a large range (depending on which chart you use) and I am in the heaviest end of it, but technically I'm not overweight, and certainly not obese. It's taken a lot of effort, but it's good to be 35 pounds lighter than I was back in June. I still have another ten pounds or so to go, because I want to be squarely in the normal range. I would like the option of one day eating a cookie again without that tipping the scales into overweight territory.
Self-perception is a strange thing, though. Other people tell me I look slimmer, but I'm not really seeing it. I know I am smaller by looking at the clothes I can wear. I was an 18 and now I'm an 8. (My preferred swimsuit, however still fits best at a 14, because somewhere, somehow, I am always a size 14.) But when my pants are tight enough to stay up I still have some muffin-top stuff going on, so I don't feel any different. I have the same body issues, just different pants.
My own space apart from the babble of the internet
Showing posts with label size. Show all posts
Showing posts with label size. Show all posts
Thursday, February 19, 2015
Monday, September 15, 2014
Size 14 Forever
I went out last night to buy new pants because nothing fits right now. It's a good problem to have when your weight is going the direction you want, and not so when it's going a direction you don't. But sizes are a mess anymore.
I started this summer at a size 18. When those pants got loose I used a belt for a while, and managed to bypass needing anything in a 16. When I got to 14 I was happy because my favorite pair of jeans in my closet is a size 14. It's a pair of Calvin Kleins I got on sale at some point during my weighty journey either up or down several years ago. They would probably get classified as "mom jeans" by someone because they actually come up over my hips to my waist, where, frankly, they should be. That whole mid-rise trend is not fair to those of us whose torsos are just a battlefield of stretchmarks.
Anyway, my weight has been up and down enough times that I've had several occasions to break out those size 14 jeans. Now they are loose again and I had to buy a pair of 12s. The 10s I have still gathering dust in the closet from the last time I was smaller will have to wait until I've lost another ten to fifteen pounds.
But here's the thing: Another ten or fifteen pounds from now I will be the weight I was when I got married in 1997. And back then I was a size 14. I also remember shopping for pants in high school in the 80s. And I was a size 14. There is a forty pound difference between where I am now and where I was in high school. That is insane.
Which makes me wonder why I'm going to all the trouble of swimming a mile every day and being disciplined about what I eat because apparently if I just wait long enough I will be a size 10 again without even trying. Or maybe the pendulum will swing the other way and I will be back to being a size 14. (Either way, nothing short of a sari has ever fit me that my brother has brought me back from India because there sizes are a whole other thing and my 5'10" frame is off all the charts.)
I started this summer at a size 18. When those pants got loose I used a belt for a while, and managed to bypass needing anything in a 16. When I got to 14 I was happy because my favorite pair of jeans in my closet is a size 14. It's a pair of Calvin Kleins I got on sale at some point during my weighty journey either up or down several years ago. They would probably get classified as "mom jeans" by someone because they actually come up over my hips to my waist, where, frankly, they should be. That whole mid-rise trend is not fair to those of us whose torsos are just a battlefield of stretchmarks.
Anyway, my weight has been up and down enough times that I've had several occasions to break out those size 14 jeans. Now they are loose again and I had to buy a pair of 12s. The 10s I have still gathering dust in the closet from the last time I was smaller will have to wait until I've lost another ten to fifteen pounds.
But here's the thing: Another ten or fifteen pounds from now I will be the weight I was when I got married in 1997. And back then I was a size 14. I also remember shopping for pants in high school in the 80s. And I was a size 14. There is a forty pound difference between where I am now and where I was in high school. That is insane.
Which makes me wonder why I'm going to all the trouble of swimming a mile every day and being disciplined about what I eat because apparently if I just wait long enough I will be a size 10 again without even trying. Or maybe the pendulum will swing the other way and I will be back to being a size 14. (Either way, nothing short of a sari has ever fit me that my brother has brought me back from India because there sizes are a whole other thing and my 5'10" frame is off all the charts.)
Friday, January 25, 2013
A Matter of Size
It's hard to explain to anyone who hasn't struggled with his or her weight how difficult it can be. I'm a pretty determined person and able to accomplish most things I set my mind to. But getting down to a weight where I want to be and staying there? I'm starting to think it's impossible. Which is frustrating.
I try not to beat myself up too much about it. I'm doing better at incorporating regular exercise into my schedule (I swim a mile in the morning about five or six days a week), and I'm trying to make better choices about what I eat. But life gets stressful and I betray myself with decisions I know are bad but seem irresistible in the moment. When I start to question my sanity and lack of will I think about how if Oprah with her infinite resources and all the incentive in the world to keep her weight down still struggles, then there is probably more to it than I realize and shouldn't feel like such a failure.
But does anyone who cares about me really love me less when my jeans are getting tight again? Do I care less about anyone based on his or her size? No. So why do I obsess? Why do I dislike myself so much over it? I'm not sure, but I don't seem able to escape it.
Back toward the beginning of the school year I went through all my kids' clothes to figure out what fit them and what didn't, what should be handed down, and what should be given away. We seldom have to shop for Mona since she is delighted to inherit whatever clothes no longer fit her sister, but each time Aden grows we end up walking down the street to Target and stocking up on some new shirts and leggings and skirts. Easy enough.
But Aden has finally reached the limit of what the girls section at Target has to offer. She's tall, like I am, and the biggest size girl clothes are 14/16, which are getting too short on her. We looked around at things she liked, but realized anything we bought would likely not last the whole year. So we had to move over to the older girl/women's area of the store. And it wasn't good.
I try not to beat myself up too much about it. I'm doing better at incorporating regular exercise into my schedule (I swim a mile in the morning about five or six days a week), and I'm trying to make better choices about what I eat. But life gets stressful and I betray myself with decisions I know are bad but seem irresistible in the moment. When I start to question my sanity and lack of will I think about how if Oprah with her infinite resources and all the incentive in the world to keep her weight down still struggles, then there is probably more to it than I realize and shouldn't feel like such a failure.
But does anyone who cares about me really love me less when my jeans are getting tight again? Do I care less about anyone based on his or her size? No. So why do I obsess? Why do I dislike myself so much over it? I'm not sure, but I don't seem able to escape it.
Back toward the beginning of the school year I went through all my kids' clothes to figure out what fit them and what didn't, what should be handed down, and what should be given away. We seldom have to shop for Mona since she is delighted to inherit whatever clothes no longer fit her sister, but each time Aden grows we end up walking down the street to Target and stocking up on some new shirts and leggings and skirts. Easy enough.
But Aden has finally reached the limit of what the girls section at Target has to offer. She's tall, like I am, and the biggest size girl clothes are 14/16, which are getting too short on her. We looked around at things she liked, but realized anything we bought would likely not last the whole year. So we had to move over to the older girl/women's area of the store. And it wasn't good.
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