The Mirror Shock
Sunday, June 26, 2016
After scrounging around under the spare bed for the suitcase filled with our "don't fit" clothes, I dragged out a pair of jeans that didn't really even fit when I bought them a couple of years ago in a hopeful cloud of delusion. Of course, they fit me now. In fact, they're a little loose around the waist, as that and the bust are where I've lost most of my weight. I pulled on the not-as-fashionable-as-they-wer
e-2-years-ago jeans and looked at myself in the mirror. Realisation practically punched me in the face as I thought, oh my goodness, I'm not a fat person anymore.
This is not a thought I'm proud of, as I generally pride myself on not judging books by their cover, or caring what people look like, or distinguishing between fat and thin. However, if I'm honest with myself, deep down inside, there is a point where I would cease to define myself in some part as a fat person. I have reached that point.
It's not like this has suddenly happened, as if I just suddenly this morning felt a strange sensation in my belly and noticed all the fat getting sucked into nothingness. I know this has happened slowly over time, I have watched myself become smaller over the past few months, although trying not to care too much about it and focus more on how I felt and how fit and healthy I was getting. But this morning I really looked, and it just occured to me that if I were to describe myself to somebody based purely on physical characteristics, fat/overweight would no longer be one of them.
It's a weird feeling and I feel that it would be vain of me to be proud of this, as being "thin" is not necessarily a goal I want anyone to think I'm working towards, but there is a part of me I'm trying to hide deep down inside that is jumping for joy, because I haven't been this small in over a decade.