No more

I have something to confess.  It’s taken me a few years to finally admit this to myself.  I’ve whispered it under my breath to try it out, to hear it out loud.  I choke up when I say it because it doesn’t sound right.  But I know it *is* right.  It’s who I am now, and it’s ok. 

Here I go…

I am not


*phew* I did it! I said it!

So…are you done laughing now? Done scoffing? Telling me what a bitch I am?  If you’re done, then let me explain.

Being a fat girl and woman for 37 years, is not immediately undone when you lose weight.  I’ve talked about body dysmorphia before, when I look in the mirror I often see myself 85 pounds ago.  But now that it’s been over 4 years since I’ve lost that weight and kept it off, I’m starting to see my true reflection in the mirror more and more.  And I like what I see.  Most of the time. 

And now that I’ve admitted to the world that I am no longer a fat girl, it’s time that I cleaned off my book shelves, too. I’ve been holding on to a collection of books and journal articles about losing weight, getting fit and a bunch of inspiring photos of folks who have lost massive amounts of weight. I actually pulled the books off the shelf several weeks ago, but haven’t been able to take them from my home.  I kept thinking that I might need them again soon. I know how quickly one can gain a few pounds, but I also know how anal retentive I am, particularly about my weight. So finally, today, I decided that enough was enough. I put the books in a bag and into my car.  I’ve decided that it’s time to stop looking elsewhere for inspiration.

To the library book sale you go!!

Just look in the damn mirror, Holly. 

And that goes for you, too. Think you can’t lose those 10 or 50 pounds you’ve been complaining about?  Bullshit.  Not enough time to exercise?  Do 5 jumping jacks before you take a shower or jog in place while waiting in any line.  Don’t want to look like an idiot?  No one gives a damn what you do or what you look like, so stop thinking that they do.  Can’t run a 5K? Just put one foot in front of the other.  I promise you, it is *really* that simple. 

If you need a cheerleader, I will be there with pom poms and a bull horn, just don’t expect me to do a high kick.  And if you really want a book for extra inspiration, I’ll keep the bag in my car for a while.  Don’t make me quote Nike, ok?  You know what to do.