This was also written during the hail storm last night.
Since I am not reporting my daily weight, I am spending less time reporting my daily obsession. I am, as of this morning (and yesterday morning), only 1.4 pounds from breaking through 130. At some point in the next few days (assuming I can avoid restaurant food and/or a huge uptick in pms bloating), I will be in the 120s and within 5 pounds of my fantasy goal weight.
My daily obsession: hitting my 120s before I leave on my trip. I thought sincerely about restricting my calorie intake a bit. That’s when I knew it was an obsession and completely unreasonable.
I look pretty good. I do not yet think I qualify as skinny, which is a goal, of course. Recently, A told me I was “on my way” to being skinny. I took offense because I am more than on my way: “I wear size 4 jeans!” Yeah, that was my actual response.
He took a long slow drag on his cigarette, exhaled just as deliberately, and said, “oh, that’s right, you’re a white woman, so you think skinny is a good thing. When I say skinny, I mean that’s a bad thing. You’re thin now, you just don’t look unhealthy.”
Fair point, to be sure.
I do not know why I always feel the need to say this when A tells me this is good enough but when I met him I weighed 118. I now weigh 131.2, so clearly he thought I was attractive when I was much skinnier.
More unhealthiness: I like it when my skin is translucent. I like that my hands look a bit blue.
In 1.2 pounds, I will be at 130. 5 pounds later, I hit my goal weight. Immediately after that, I will pull a Hillary and move the goal posts, I am sure.
Skinny is important in my world. Not too skinny, but just skinny enough. I am confident that A and BP, who both monitor my appearance most closely, will let me know when they think I have crossed that line. From where I stand now, I still have a long way to go.
I keep praising myself for seeing myself so clearly when I look in the mirror, recognizing the daily progress. Then I start to worry that maybe what I see is not what others see. It takes time for our brains to catch up to our bodies. What if I am already there and just don’t realize it because I am obsessed with how fat my thighs are or the fact I have a big belly. Logically, I know neither of those thwo things are objectively true, but trying on a skirt, I cannot help but notice how much my belly sticks out (it really doesn’t, it’s just not flat) or how fat my thighs look in a miniskirt (they really don’t either, but they are not as I would like them — also, I am too old to wear a miniskirt without tights anyway).
Here I am again, all up in my head about body image and weight loss.