perspective

The other day (Wednesday, I think), I woke up, got dressed, and I happened to catch a glimpse of my full-length self in the mirror as I was leaving the bathroom. I stopped and studied my reflection for a second. Maybe it was the pants that actually fit, maybe it was the line of the sweater...but there was no doubt about it. I was having a skinny day. I walked out into the kitchen.

"Rob, do I look smaller to you today?"

I admit, this is a mean question to ask. If he doesn't think so, then there's no right answer. If he says yes, he's lying. If he says no, he risks hurting my feelings. Lose-lose. He looked me over and gave his assessment.

"I've been noticing it for a while, but yeah, you do look smaller today."

Good answer. :)

That whole day, I felt almost thin, and I took full advantage of that feeling. I left my cave office more than usual. I stopped to talk to people. I was more confident, and didn't worry about finding a dark corner of the locker room to change in when I went to work out.

This morning I didn't feel big or small, even though the scale told me that I was a pound heavier today than I was yesterday. It didn't get me down, because I knew that the gain was a side effect of the pizza and possibly the late workout yesterday. I was puzzled, though, because my clothes didn't fit any differently. My ring didn't stick when I took it off. Where was that weight?

As I was changing for the aerobics class this afternoon, I bent over to tie my shoes. Holy crap! I wished I had a tape measure, because it looked like my calves swelled four inches overnight. They looked the size of cabers (cabels? Those things that the guys throw in that one Scottish competition), I swear. I looked around to ask someone if my calves looked big to them, but then it occurred to me that no one in the room really cared about the state of my body--they were here to work on their own. I headed up the stairs to the workout room, hoping no one noticed the girl with the freakishly-huge legs. Through the whole class, I kept glancing at my legs and wishing I had brought long pants.

I've been thinking about it since then...all through lunch, and I still can't get it out of my head. It's funny how perspective changes. I'm exactly the same weight today as I was Wednesday, but my perception of that weight is totally different. And I'll bet if I asked a casual acquaintance, they wouldn't be able to see the difference in my size. So am I really any bigger today than I was Wednesday?

I think back to when I was 130-135 lbs. in high school. I thought I was huge then, too. Nothing fit right, my hips were gigantic, those "loose fit" jeans were tight on my gargantuan thighs. I was this chunky, disgusting pig and no one would ever love me. Now, I look at pictures of myself then and just want to travel back in time and tell my 15-year-old self that it was okay not to be a size 6. (But work on that hair, wouldja? That haircut is tragic, even for 1989. Those bangs!)

Then, I think back to the last time I was ever happy with my body. Middle of my 2nd year of college, I weighed 140 lbs--at least 5 lbs heavier than when I thought I was revoltingly huge. I know this, because I got pregnant about a month or so later, gained 28 lbs, and ended up at 168 in 9 months. (Figures, doesn't it?) My body, and my image of it, hasn't really recovered since.

I say that my goal in this journey is 135 lbs., but I've come to realize that's not really true. My true goal is that feeling of finally being satisfied with my body. Being able to look at myself in the mirror every day, and feel content with what I see. Ten years ago, that happened at 140 lbs. Who knows what the magic number will be this time? Or if it even exists at all?