Losing weight has made me realize how big I let myself get over the years. I've always been on the heavier side of average weight, so being a fat girl never really bothered me too hard because it was a thing I was used to. I wore a junior's size 9 when I was in the sixth grade, and I stayed that size until around tenth grade. It was then it occured to me that I should feel a little more sad about losing weight. I remember how horrible I felt when I had to suddenly jump up to a junior's size 11, which is about the equivalent of the misses size 10 that I wear now. I remember how fat it made me feel to wear that size, when most of my classmates were probably still wearing their size 9's, or worse, smaller. I remember how it made me feel like a bad person.

I have come down to a size 10 from a size 16, which was the largest I'd ever been except for when I was pregnant with Devin. Pregnant fat is not like regular fat; it's being fat for a reason other than being a hungry, lazy hippo. I feel super excited to be in a size 10 for the first time since early high school. But then I let myself think about how a size 10 isn't really small at all. I was unhealthily large in early high school, and I'm unhealthily large today. I still have a long way to go, I'd like to eventually be wearing a size 6, and I'm proud of myself for being able to add the word "eventually" to my dieting vocabulary.

The main thing that has gotten in my way in regards to my various quests for relative thinness has been my own impatience. I'd always start a diet on Monday and expect to look like a goddess by the following Sunday. Of course I wouldn't wake up on that day resembling any sort of goddess other than the short, squat, fertility variety, so I'd give up. What little common sense I have about health and fitness tells me that waking up after a week of dieting, looking any different was impossible, but common sense usually tends to fly out the window just when you need it most. Now that I've come to terms with "eventually", it's been much easier to live healthier all around, not just eat a little healthier for a predetermined period of time.

Since I started "living healthier" at the end of June, I've lost 20 pounds, which puts the loss at rate of about 2 pounds per week, which is considered healthy. I've hit a plateau. It seems like no matter what I do, I can't get that scale to budge at all. It's becoming a pain in my ass, and I'm trying to keep it from shaking my resolve. Losing 20 pounds the healthy way is a decent feat, and I'm pretty proud of myself for doing it this way. I need to tuck that feeling in a pocket somewhere so that I can pull it out when I need the encouragement to continue.

Eventually.