So…I’m becoming more comfortable with my current body size. I’m learning that I don’t have to hate my arms as I have since, oh 1995.
No, I’m not thin yet but being 44 pounds down from my highest weight ever, I can appreciate being in my own skin these days.
On Sunday, I put on a shirt I’d worn a lot last summer and upon looking in the mirror I realized that it was really, seriously too big. And…I’m ashamed to admit, it had two tiny holes near the hem where my belt buckle had rubbed all last summer.
I took it off and threw it away.
Then, inspired by my own ability to acknowledge when something was too big, I tried on a shirt I haven’t been able to wear in two years. It was always much too small.
I checked myself in the mirror. It was…okay. A bit lower cut than I usually wear, a fact that Olivia noticed the moment I walked into the room she occupied, but really, not bad at all.
I went downstairs and asked Tom if he thought my shirt was too tight.
He eyed me appreciatively and said, “No, it shows off all your hard work.”
He’s a good one, that guy.
Later, as I headed upstairs to grab my purse before Alyssa and I went to the movie, she mentioned that she could see my bra through my shirt.
I asked if she could actually see the bra or just the outline of the bra.
She admitted that it was just the outline.
Tom was near us and he agreed it was just the outline.
I asked, “Is there back fat?”
Tom snorted and Alyssa looked confused.
I asked again, “Are there rolls of fat above or below the outline of my bra?”
Tom told me there were no rolls, no evidence of back fat at all.
Alyssa laughed as I sashayed up the stairs, so very excited by the fact that I no longer have back fat to display to the world.