Three years into owning this new, slimmer body, it seems things have only gotten worse.
I’ve put on a couple from my lightest, and now I feel like a normal-sized woman who has put on a few, instead of a heavier woman who proudly dropped three sizes. My self-worth seems tied to a number on the scale, versus how I feel.
I find I am far more critical of myself than one ought to be. Instead of admiring my leaner, stronger legs, I’m obsessed with the number on the scale which has gone up the past year. I’m bemoaning the fact that my clothes still fit, but don’t fall as nicely. I’m staring at my midsection in the mirror, poking at “fat” that wasn’t there at my leanest.
(The irony is, when I was heavy, I never noticed fat on my hips…and since I lost several inches from them… clearly I wasn’t preoccupied with them before).
I think about food all too often: what I’ve eaten, what I will eat, if I’m hungry or bored, where we’ll have dinner on Friday, how many calories I’ve eaten today or how many I have left in the bank.
And when I’m not thinking about food, I’m thinking of my workouts. Did I burn enough calories today? If I lift, will I have time for cardio? Did I eat enough to get in a good workout? Or did I just eat back my workout? . Continue reading “The Battle Continues”