The other day, I put on the skirt I wore to my mom's memorial service. In truth, it's kind of ugly. The clearance rack Express skirt is this weird poop brown color, it has awkwardly placed pockets and it hits me right below the knee - not such a good length when one stands at 5 feet 3 inches tall. I put it on because it's a size 10 and I've been trying on all of my size 10 garments to see if they fit.
Fit it did.
My mom was so beautiful. She had the most dainty hands and feet. She had eyelashes so long that they brushed up against the lens of her glasses - which were bottle cap thick in attempt to correct her terrible eyesight. She had great bone structure and muscularly toned legs. My mom's weight fluctuated a lot when I was growing up. I remember it being this huge thing between my parents. One year my dad had tried to bribe my mom with a trip to Hawaii if she lost a certain number of pounds. She did great but she fell just shy of her goal and the trip to Hawaii was cancelled. I think they went to Hilton Head instead. As a child this sent a pretty clear message to me - be skinny and you'll be showered with gifts, love and affection, be un-skinny and you'll receive a consolation prize. My food issues are deeply rooted. I grew up watching my mom struggle with her weight. I grew up watching my dad struggle with her struggle.
Why does it sometimes feel like we are doomed to repeat our parent's mistakes?
Lately, I've been having a lot of days that people have made me feel really good. I mean really good. I feel like my friendships are stronger than ever. I feel completely obsessed with my husband, like high-school-goofy-obsessed. I feel more excepted and loved than I can remember feeling in a long time.
And I think I had a break through...
I am feeling this from other people because I'm feeling more excepting and loving of myself. A friend whipped out her camera to take a picture of me recently and I didn't cringe, I smiled and said "cheese!" I need a few progress photos anyway. I have lost 28.5 lbs to date. This is officially more weight than I have lost with any other attempt in my life.
My mom kept a collection of "fat pants" in her closet. Pants that didn't necessarily fit anymore or that had some kind of hideous stretch panel or MC hammer flair that she felt covered up any lumps, bumps or bloating she was feeling on her heavier days. Well, Mom... that buck stopped with you. I'm not carrying this nonsense into my future. No fat pants for me, I plan to continue to live my best life and I think you would be really proud of me.