The fact is, people's comments about my weight irk me. As a person who once weighed 208 pounds, you'd better be sure I know when my weight is up...and am dancing with the diet coke when it's down.
Recently a couple of well -meaning family members have asked "if I really need to keep losing weight." But you know who didn't ask?
My doctor. On Monday, she peeped my above- normal BMI, very sweetly praised my slow weight loss and encouraged me to lose more. "Count calories and have a treat every day," she said.
I think it'd be easy to write my higher weight off as a black thing. Or a big boobs thing. Or a Grad school thing. Or an early- thirties thing. It can be confusing to simultaneously totally love my body and work to reduce it. Without turning this post into a Dove commercial, I think I'm pretty lovely.
I also think I have a tendency to underestimate my size, and lately, underestimate the impact of "those few extra pounds" on my health. Especially when my long term health has been in question. I was happy big. I'll be happy small (okay...medium). And maybe I'll be a little healthier for the trouble.
Self-awareness is not an eating disorder, no?
Critique is not self flagellation, no?
So yeah...I'm still losing.
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