A Happier me

I’ve always been fat/plump/chubby. Whatever you want to call it, I’ve always been noticeably overweight. I remember back to first grade (5 turning 6yrs old) and she’s there. She’s part of my memories, my history, my past. We were the best of friends, and throughout our friendship she has always been the pretty, popular one. She was the pretty girl with blue eyes and blonde hair; I was her redheaded, chubby best friend. This, I’ve always been aware of. Long before I should have, I had body issues.

Looking back, given what I ate everyday (almost the same lunch for years on end), it really is no surprise that I was overweight. One such food was a particular brand of full fat cheese. This, I ate at least for breakfast & lunch and snacked on during the day for the majority of my life (including all my school years). This cheese I now turn down. Sometimes I get a craving for it, and then I think of the last time I ate it and how it didn’t taste as yummy as it once did. So I decide no to get some. I am very proud of myself for that.

When I started on this path of my life, I was pessimistic that it would be too hard and I wouldn’t be able to lose the weight. I was excited at the idea of changing my life, my health, and my (self-loathing) appearance. I was hopeful that I would succeed and make my life better. More than anything though, I was scared. I had reached a point where I knew things had to change, and that I had to change. And I was scared shitless that I would fail.

Being sick so badly and for so long was a blessing in disguise. It kick started my weight loss. Having glandular fever and gastroenteritis is no fun. Had I had a choice, I would have rather have not been sick and lost the weight slower. However, that’s the hand life dealt me, and I played on.

I’m surprised and still don’t really believe that I’ve lost 22kg (48.5lbs). I went clothes shopping with my mum the other day and immediately and subconsciously gravitated towards the fat section. I no longer fit into these clothes, but because for so long that’s all I could fit into, my legs take me there automatically.

22 kilograms! I understand that I’ve lost weight and my appearance has changed because of that, but the number + me losing that much just doesn’t compute. I look at photographs of me, even from a year ago, and I no longer see me. I know it’s me, but that’s who I WAS. I’m so different now. I am a new person. I am a new and improved version of me.

I no longer cringe when someone wants me in a photograph, and my smile is no longer fake. Perhaps I’ve become a little vain, but I think I’ve bloody well earned it after all the fat years I went through. I can now feel good about myself, because I am healthy and my appearance is more appealing (to me).

I have lost 4 to 5 dress sizes! Clothes shopping is no longer an issue for me. And clothes that I was wearing just a year ago are way too big. I put on a top the other day that I used to wear all the time. It now hangs off me. I mean, you wouldn’t even know I had a figure wearing this fucking tent thing.

As of yesterday, my BMI has significantly changed. I’m no longer classed as obese, now I’m just overweight. I simply cannot describe how good this feels. Those of you that are reading this that have experienced it will know what I’m talking about. And those of you out there that are on your way to experiencing it, I strongly encourage you to keep going. Take it from someone who’s there, it feels awesome & no one can take that away from you.

This morning I took my measurement. Inches have been lost since the last time, but I haven’t been diligent with keeping a record. Suppose I probably should have, but oh well what’s done is done. From taking these measurements, I now know I have one inch (yes, just one) to lose off my waist and I will officially have an hourglass figure. I’ve never really had a particular figure, other than fat, so it’s pretty exciting.