Body Image Issues

I'm still surprised by how unable I am to see my body for what it is now. And I'm fascinated by the brain that processes the information.

Indulge me, please.

When I get ready for bed at night, I brush my teeth in our master bath, then walk to the kitchen for a drink of ice water and then traverse back to the bedroom, passing by a sliding glass door. In that glass door, I am able to see my back lit reflection.
I have watched the back lit me get smaller over the past 18 months. And for quite a while, I reveled in the shrinking vision.

Lately, I swear I see "bigger." And I know it's not true. The scale and the dressing room let me know I'm not expanding. But I see flabby thighs. I see a saggy butt.

I guess my standards for what is "big" have changed. That's OK, I think. My inability to see just how big I was before was part of the problem in the first place, as  I've discussed in previous posts. But it's hard to not get down on myself for the perceived flab, even when the logical me is smacking the emotional me in the forehead with the heel of my figurative palm.

Those feelings, of "it's not quite enough," are really powerful. And they can get my brain off track, causing needless worrying, off-program eating and weird training obsessions.

I can get beyond the emotional stuff by now. I know I'm healthier. I know my body is in a good place and I have no real reason to complain. I know my extra skin is a much better alternative to all the extra fat.

It just pisses me off.

Why did I let myself get that big in the first place and why didn't I do something about it at 25 or 30 or even 35, when my skin was more elastic and would have been more forgiving?

And every time I'm at the mall or the gas station or grocery store and I see a young girl who is carrying way too much weight, my heart breaks. I want to grab her and put my face in her face and make her understand that what she's doing, how she's feeling, the way she's living is so much harder in every way than taking control and getting healthier.

I don't want her to waste the time I wasted being miserable.

Maybe she could come look in my sliding glass door and see.