Losing Weight and Finding Manners

Here they come. The dreaded weight loss comments. I knew they would get here eventually. They’ve been sprinkling in over the last year or so.

At first it’s an enthusiastic “Oh, my God you look amazing what are you doing?!?!” To then the mild concern “You look like you’re losing weight, is that intentional?” To now the playful yet subtle body shaming: “You look like you’ve lost a bunch of weight. STOP IT.”

Ugh. I truly hate it. I never know how to respond. I find myself explaining when I really don’t want to. Or worse somehow feeling like I need to justify, apologize, or appease the situation. I loved when I was pudgy because other than the curve loving men nobody said a fucking word. It was much easier to accept my body as a full-figured woman tbh. I felt like I was finally part of the secret club I’d been shunned from most of my life.

Truth is I’ve been on a two year long roller coaster of a healing journey ride that I’m still navigating. I’ve come a long way, I’ve healed a lot, but it’s not done yet. Weight fluctuation is part of it. If I could snap my fingers and be at my perfect ideal 140 pounds distributed in all the “right” places I’d do that. Trust. But that ain’t how this shit works.

Yes, I’ve lost weight. No, I’m not “trying” to. I loved my thick thighs, ample breasts, and big ass too. But I’m also enjoying being able to cross my legs, move around with more ease, and fit into my clothes more easily. My body will find its way to the weight it wants to be eventually. I’m thin right now. I’m not dying.

I’ll start. How are you? I mean…truly. How are you? I want to know.