A hidden cost of weight loss

Well I'm back.  I snuck away to Yosemite and Santa Cruz last week for a vacation and a friend's wedding.  I expected to have least a bit of internet time to post updates, but I didn't.  Sorry about that.

I didn't do a weekly weigh in this week, but it has been almost exactly 2 months since I started this project and I've lost a grand total of 8 pounds, down to 151.  It's not a huge amount, but it is about 5% of my starting body weight which means it's definitely enough to have visible results.  And peeps, those results are scary.

When I started this, I didn't have a solid idea in my head of how I wanted to look.  I knew I wanted to be thinner.  I knew I wanted a flatter stomach, slimmer hips, and a total eradication of back fat (back fat!  I hate back fat.).  But I really didn't know what to expect.  The last time I was at this weight, I was 16 and a competitive gymnast.  My body was completely different.  Now, 10 years of hormones and college and growing up later, my body has changed.  It didn't occur to me at the beginning at all, but I'm in completely uncharted territory, body-wise.

I like about 90% of the results.  My stomach is flatter, my hips are slimmer, back fat is gone (HAH!), and I can look at photos of myself and not be annoyed.  But... my chest is smaller too.  I didn't anticipate that and I'm very sad about it.  I had this magnificent 38D rack that I loved (and so did everyone else) and it's slowly but surely shrinking.  Not by much.  I haven't been refitted for a bra yet, but now I'm maybe 38C or 36D.  I don't know.  Also, my waist to hip ratio is shrinking.  I'm not as curvy as I used to be.  Once again, a very scary thing, and something I didn't expect.


The bottom line is that when I began this weight loss process, I thought I knew what to expect.  I was changing my body precisely because I was pretty sure I knew what was coming.  Now, however, I understand that I don't know what's in store for me.  I may or may not have an hourglass figure at the end.  I may end up with thighs 3 sizes larger than my waist (which is the way I am now.  My tailor and I are tight). 

I'm nothing if not an aggressive problem solver, and fortunately the solution to this problem is fairly simple, although not necessarily cheap: buy clothes that fit.  Or tailor what I have.  It doesn't matter that I still have more weight to lose.  It doesn't matter that my shape will continue to change.  The most frustrating part of my morning right now is digging through my closet and coming up with nothing.  Day after day.  Every pair of jeans is far too loose in the waist to be flattering.  None of my blazers sit right on my shoulders.  I look disheveled and I look like I should gain 10 pounds, which I won't do. 

So instead, I'm slowly but surely making many trips to the tailor.  One by one, my jeans are starting to fit again.  I'm cruising thrift shops for tops to wear in my transition period.  And I'm here to tell you that the clothes make all the difference in the world.  There's nothing like pulling on a freshly tailored pair of skinny jeans and seeing my ass in the mirror (and doing a fist pump, because that's how I roll).  It sounds petty, but it's worth it to me to conquer my fear of my body and its future.  I'm showing myself that the new me is unassailably better than the old me.  Because the more I learn that lesson, the less likely I am to go back.