love this journey for [me]

heyy giirrllll,

it’s me, future you. we need to talk. nothing bad, don’t worry! i’m always one to scoff at writing a letter to my younger self because i didn’t know anything then and i surely don’t know anything now! and i barely know the meaning of coherent so who am i to be writing letters to anyone? however, i have things you need to know so listen up.

less than a week after that picture was taken, you made the decision to join the program formerly known as Weight Watchers. it was one of the best decisions of your life, lebron. you jumped in, head first, as you usually do when your mind is made up. you counted all the points, found all the recipes, followed all the instagrams.

the feeling of pride was almost immediate because for suuuuuuch a long time you felt like this wasn’t in the cards for you.

23 pounds down

you know how you always wished you could go to bed and wake up 50 pounds lighter? well, that didn’t happen, but it felt like it did. pretty soon you had lost thirty pounds. that number seemed impossible. THIRTY WHOLE POUNDS? blasphemy. then the number reached fifty and although slightly more believable, still totally unbelievable. you weren’t sure when the shoe was going to fall but it probably would and it would have been a good run.

fifty-ish, maybe sixty pounds down

you will hit hurdles. the first time the scale told you you’d gained more than a few tenths of a pound, that hurt. immediately you went into panic mode. “it’s all going to come back!”, you worried- forgetting/ not realizing that this is normal. the feeling of waking up and realizing that all of this is a dream took a very, VERY long time to go away, and even still, it feels precarious.

it will take FOR.EV.ER. for you to see a change in yourself. especially in your face. but then, all of a sudden, you’ll look in the mirror and realize you have a chin! you’re going to buy clothes constantly. we’re still trying to get the sizes right so, if future you could give AAANNNYY advice, it would be to cool it with the clothes. i know it’s a thrill but holy shit. your bedroom looks like a textile factory.

the thought of a weight watchers instagram ran through your head, but that was quickly squashed when you realized you had no good lighting or fine china to take pictures in/on. nor did you have the patience for it. so you took to this trusty blog space. in the beginning you were good about updating the internet with the good, the bad, and the ugly parts of this journey.

your NSVs came fast and furious at first. that’s what made it easy to regale your reader(s) with stores about how you realized your bath towel actually wrapped around your whole body or the time you found your collarbone. they started to slow as things became more natural for you. i won’t lie, it’s a bit of a let down to not get SO EXCITED about these things anymore but you’ll always keep that excitement inside you. there’s always a spark of it when you peek in the mirror and BOOM BONE-ita the collarbone shows herself.

eighty nine, ninety pounds came and went and that’s when things got rough. plateuing started to happen and you wondered if you’d ever break it. you’re so close to one hundred, you can’t give up now. each week you’d dutifully step on the scale and just pray that the number was less than it was last week. even by .1 pounds. a loss is a loss, just like you’ve been saying all along.

you’re not going to recognize yourself in pictures. the first time that happens, you’ll be at medieval times. you’ll have to play it cool, but in reality, all you’ll want to do is get home so you can stare at yourself on your phone. i’m not sure that feeling will ever get old. it hasn’t yet. you’ll also start to not recognize your old pictures. well, maybe “not recognize” are not the right words. you won’t be able to believe that’s you. not in a bad way; you just can’t get over how far you’ve come.

eighty-ish pounds down

like the rest of the literal world, you’re moving right along and then – CORONAVIRUS. there’s a lot to worry about and frankly, your weight loss was high on the list. you didn’t come this far to get sidelined by a pandemic. no ma’m. your job stayed open, much to your relief and your annoyance. this kept you afloat in so many ways. some probably best saved for a therapist’s couch and for another post. from the time we started quarantine to the last time i checked, you were down 11 pounds. SUCK IT, COVID.

i need you to hear this and i don’t want you to freak out – YOU WILL HIT ONE HUNDRED POUNDS. ok, you’re freaking out- i could feel it. you’re going to work hard for it. just because i’m telling you it’s going to happen, doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. you have to work, bitch. (#freebritney) you will also have a big gain the week after you hit it and worry that it will take forever to get it off to hit it again but, GIRL. YOU WILL HIT ONE HUNDRED POUNDS. the pandemic and some other silly personal nonsense will make you feel like it shouldn’t/won’t be celebrated the right way but it will. well, i think it will. so far, not yet.

i guess it goes without saying, but you’ll reach ONE-derland. you’ll get back to or get very close to your high school weight. that’s all anyone ever wants, right?

you have learned so much on this journey. you won’t know and will probably never know how to adequately explain it, but you will feel so much more like yourself than you’ve ever felt in your life. isn’t that weird?

getting dressed is easier. maybe not the physical act of getting dressed but knowing how you want to look and then actually looking like the idea in your head? IT’S POSSIBLE. there are more perks than i can even begin to list (but keep reading, i’ll try!) but that one has to be the best. i want you to know that you bought not one but two (!) crop tops from AMAZON (of all places) and THEY FIT. WELL. we haven’t worn them out yet but when we do, i’m sure everyone i come across will know that i’m wearing a CROP TOP from AMAZON.

there are a lot of things that you worry about that i can tell you from here, you don’t worry about anymore. moving freely around things, like tables at a restaurant? not a problem. (well, really not a problem since we’re still in a pandemic.) not being able to fit through tight spaces at work? think again! your feet hurt muuuuch less. you’re less sweaty. you can walk almost 5 miles. you don’t ache. i know you never really realized you were achy except for your feet but trust me, you feel better overall. your feet don’t swell. aunt flo comes regularly (she’s the reason you had that big gain after 100 so she could fuck right off). you’re going to realize, and i’m still trying to figure this one out, that you actually like kids now. there’s a good chance that’s an age/ biological clock thing or the fact that you have a handful of great kids in your life now that are pleasures to be around (parents of those kids – i don’t want to hear it. they might be tiny terrors to you, but i can’t get enough of them), or if losing the weight flipped a kid switch? i know this is all very hard to believe, but i’m here living it.

people still insist on calling you an inspiration. you’ll appreciate it immensely but also hate every second of it because you don’t feel like an inspiration. inspirational people have been through things. they’ve seen some shit. you lost weight and never stepped foot into a gym. hm. maybe we should re-think this “i’m not an inspiration” narrative. either way, i can’t tell you how proud i am of you for taking that step and downloading an app (real inspirational). PROUD AF. and i guess i should thank you for it too. i am so happy to have experienced all of this especially when i never thought i would.

i’m not quite sure how to end this. we don’t gain any eloquence on this journey, apparently. but i just have to thank you again – this time for being you. and i want to remind you that everything tastes as good as skinny feels. not that we’re skinny.. yet. not sure where this went. ok, bye.

juuust shy of 100lbs down, but close enough to sign off with it.

love you and this journey for you, mean it.

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