Posted in 2the9s, Beauty, Diet, weight

Waisting Away Again


I just came from the scale, where I weighed in.  206.9.  That’s how much I weigh today.  My favorite jeans are a size 16.  My favorite work trousers are a size 14.  I wear a size L shirt, but prefer an XL because…I do.  I like baggy tops.  Why am I telling you this?  Because it’s not a secret.

I look like this.  Only, usually I am not wearing a apron.  Usually, I am the one taking the pictures, so I have precious few full-body shots of myself.
I look like this sitting down. Only, usually I am not wearing a apron. Usually, I am the one taking the pictures, so I have precious few full-body shots of myself.

Yes, it’s time for another one of those posts about size because I was made acutely aware of mine once again tonight.  I am one secure woman, so if I was made to feel unsure about myself, it’s time for a reminder that weight only determines size, not worth.

Just to get health issues out of the way: My most recent blood work (2012) shows that I am exceptionally healthy.  I am nowhere near diabetes, and my cholesterol was even decent.  I am well within all the proper ranges for my age group, and at my last work-required physical, which included a mini stress test, I surprised the nurse with my stamina and strong heart.

Actually, I surprised her with my weight.  I stepped on the scale and she gasped, and said, “Oh!  You don’t look like you weigh that much!”  Recently, I had someone tell me I might be attractive, except for all “this”, and that person waved a hand up and down my torso.  Say what–did I even ask?  Tonight, a woman checked me out–actually walked a circle around me–and sneered at my stomach.  I want people like that to understand that their actions don’t say anything about me–I’m already all out there.  I own a mirror.  I own a scale.  I know what size I wear and exactly how I look in my clothes.  They aren’t saying anything about me that you don’t see when I’m crossing the street.  They aren’t adding anything to the conversation, save to inform their characters.

This is what 206.9lbs looks like wearing a fitted, size 16 suit.  And save for the dorky pose, objectively I can say to you that it looks pretty darn good.
This is what 206.9lbs looks like wearing a fitted, size 16 suit. And save for the dorky pose, objectively, I can say to you that it looks pretty darn good.

I weigh what I do for several reasons, none of them genetic or medical:

  1. I love tacos.  And nachos.  And bacon sandwiches.  And Coca-Cola.  And chicken fried steak.  And I fully intend to eat food I like, along with fruits and vegetables, which I also love to eat.  Weight Watchers was great for a while, then it made me sad.  I would rather be fat than sad, and as long as Rosa’s is serving up their lard coated love, I will eat there.
  2. I have had a very sedentary job for the past year, meaning I put back on the 25lbs I dropped walking stairs on my lunch breaks.  (My new office has stairs and a lot of great places to walk, and an hour lunch.  I expect my weight will fluctuate accordingly.)
  3. I am not going to get up an hour earlier than I already do (I get up at 5:45 most mornings) to go jogging.  I’m just not.  And, I’m not going to go jogging in the dark.
  4. I am also not going to take one of the precious 3 hours I get each night with Thor, and spend it on a treadmill.  Vogue can suck it.  I only have him for short years before he is off to college.  I have the rest of my life to do sit ups.
  5. I am over 40, and it’s harder to lose weight now.  It used to be that I cut out Cokes and I’d lose 15lbs in 3 months–and that was all I needed to lose.  Now?  I cut out Cokes and I’m just thirsty.

I do not like weighing 206.9lbs.  I don’t.  That’s too much for me.  But I know that weight is a temporal thing, and subject to change, so I don’t get too fussed about it.  I work on myself in spurts.  While I am moving toward more activity (and am excited about that!), I don’t kick myself for my choices.

I don’t apologize for how I look.  I don’t need any outside validation.  I am awesome–just ask anyone who knows me.  Awesome.  And overweight.  And those two things have absolutely nothing to do with each other.

 

Posted in 2the9s, Diet, Health

You Look Fat in That Body


I’ve written many, many posts about size and weight. I’ve written many, many posts about diets and fitness.  I’ve gone up and down between 3 sizes for the past four years, seemingly unable to break through the barrier to get down to the Lane Ideal.  Pfft.  Who am I kidding.  I lose interest in it and quit eating according to The Plan(s) and Fitnessing (when they say it is a lifestyle change, they mean it.)  If I stuck to it, I could do it.  I just don’t have the desire.  I know Kate Moss thinks nothing tastes as good as skinny feels, but she’s probably never had a Reuben from Schlotzky’s, Paneer Tikka Masala from Hot Breads, or Tacos al Carbon from Rosa’s either.  Those, my friends, those all taste better than a size 2 could ever make me feel.

Last night, I was at an event, standing with a group of people, wearing my new JLo dress with a smart shrug and fantastic jewelry, feeling pretty good if you discount the beads of sweat rolling down my spine in the Texas heat.  My hair was working.  My makeup was working.  I was feeling 100% pulled together.  As I was talking with several of my colleagues, a newcomer sharing in the conversation suddenly halted.  He put his hand on his chest and said, “From the first time I saw you [a month ago at another event], I thought you looked like that singer, Adele.”

I happen to think Adele is really beautiful, so I was opening my mouth to thank him so much, when he put both hands up, kind of moved them up and down indicating my torso and said, “But not because you’re… Uh… I mean to say… I hope that doesn’t offend you!  I don’t want to offend you!”

And then I was confused for a split second until I realized he meant he didn’t want to offend me by saying I reminded him of Adele because we are both blonde, blue-eyed and fat.

Adele at the Grammy’s in 2012. If you put me in those dresses, I would probably fill them out almost exactly as she does.

Of course I wasn’t offended at being compared to Adele, but the looks on the faces around me, and his hand flapping was a little embarrassing.  Was I supposed to have been offended?  Were my hips the elephant in the room?  I know what size I wear (my dress was a 14/16, by the way) and I know what my measurements are.  It isn’t surprising to me that no one confuses me for Katy Perry, who has the hottest body in music right now.

Katy Perry, who, when she is blonde, could be Adele’s conventionally hot sister. She has an amazing figure!

I am not ashamed of how I look.  I also don’t expect anyone to pretend I look like something I’m not.  The other day, I was asked whether I would attend a pool party if invited.  Well, sure!  I love pool parties.  But, the next question came, would you be willing to get into the pool?  Because some girls won’t wear swimsuits in public, you know.

That set me off laughing.  You can look at me in my day clothes and know I’m not going to peel off a fat suit down into a string bikini.  All I’m going to do is put on my old faithful Esther Williams suit and look like a slice of luscious cherry cheesecake, with some dimpled thighs for good measure.

Old faithful. My Esther Williams swimsuit. Photo taken a few years back–same size as I am today, though.

We put way too much weight on size.  Be who you are.  Be proud of who you are.  Don’t wait until you look a certain way to love how you look–or you never will.  Don’t wait until you look a certain way to be proud of yourself–or you never will be.

I’m pretty chuffed to be compared to Adele.  Now, if someone would just tell me my voice was as brilliant!