I have this dark purple button down shirt. I bought it a couple of years ago after I'd lost some weight, I was down a couple of sizes, and it fit perfectly. This is a rare thing to find for a lady with an ample bosom. Ample bosoms and button down shirts rarely get along well. And yet this perfect shirt has been sitting in my closet nearly untouched for the last year and a half. But why you ask? I couldn't button it. The color is luscious, the little bit of a sheen in the soft fabric is pleasing to the eye and to the touch. But the damn thing didn't fit anymore. Son of a bitch. Yeah, gaining twenty five pounds will do that. I was sad. I love this shirt. And so this morning, as I was groggily getting dressed, pre-coffee, I pulled it out and wore it as a jacket over a white shell. Buttons be damned. And then I got to work and realized, wait a minute, that shell is way too big. It looks frumpy. I look frumpy. I hate looking frumpy. So while washing my hands and critiquing myself in the bathroom mirror, I had the minor revelation, "I bet this stupid thing fits now." And guess what? I took off that baggy shell, buttoned that glorious shirt up and it fit perfectly. So happy weight loss result! See crazy eyes below.
I'm clinging to this tiny triumph today, because my weight loss has totally stalled out in the last three weeks. Completely my fault, too. I haven't gained anything, but I haven't lost either. The combination of traveling, lots of eating out, not working out consistently and I'm falling back on old habits. So today, after the minor thrill of an old shirt fitting like new, I'm rejuvenated and ready to refocus my energy. I worked out yesterday, stayed under my calorie limits, ate lots of fruits and veggies and I'm going to do that today and tomorrow and the next day and the next day and pretty soon I'll be in control again. So why am I even writing about this? Again, I need a little help via public accountability/humiliation. The next time you see me, feel free to ask me how the weight loss is going. I give you permission. Because I know that this whole topic is sensitive and personal and I'm trying to reduce the secretiveness and the shame around all of it by posting here. I hate feeling embarrassed or disappointed in myself. And I'm not going to anymore. I'm just not. That's enough self absorbed ranting for today. Is there anything more boring that listening to someone elses' diet woes? Doubtful. But it has been a shockingly wonderful experience to write this nonsense and get such supportive responses from my cozy little readership. So thank you again. You don't know how much it means to me. Now I'm going to go eat some strawberries.