Stranger in the Mirror

Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I don't recognize the person looking back. I've grown accustomed to seeing the same pudgy, greased, insecure girl in the reflection, but, recently, that image has changed drastically. The problem with altering your physical appearance after years of being in the same state that only changes with age is that there is a point when one day it is almost like nothing has changed at all and the next, you wake up and don't recognize the person in the mirror. It's frightening. Everyone else can see the change happen, but, due to the whole "I am with myself every second of every minute of every hour of every day," it takes time for your to see major changes.

For the last couple of months, I didn't see the difference between being 165 pounds and 145 pounds. I felt like I wasn't changing despite what the devilish numbers on the scale said. That's what the mirror told me, at least. I'd touch my shoulders, my collar bones, my ribcage, my hips, and I could feel bones that I'd never really felt before. It was like I was a little kid at a new and unfamiliar playground and I just wanted to find out what there was to see that I'd not seen previously. I wanted that adrenaline of touching untouched hot metal constructions. It was new and exciting to finally feel like I could figure out what my body was made of because before it was an ugly glob of cold mush that I had to lug around everywhere I went. I didn't understand that there was more to a body than cellulite and fat cells. Because that was all I had ever known.

This morning, I was sitting in my Professional Writing class (totally half-asleep due to the freaking time change), and I was starting to nod off when I looked down at my legs. Suddenly, I realized I had really small thighs. I was struck with this "Holy shit! When did I get these?" feeling. Then, just as fast as the image came, it disappeared. If you don't understand how one moment I can see one thing and the next, see something totally different, I can't explain that to you.

Sometimes, before I get in the shower, I'll look at myself in the mirror, and I'll catch a glimpse of how I am at the present time, and it's shocking. I probably almost cry every single time. Weight loss (and weight gain, depending on your circumstances) can be such an emotional experience for many, and I totally understand why. For better or worse, seeing the old, familiar machine that is your body change is like changing costume or reading from a new script. It's different, and many don't know how to react to such a drastic thing.

I finally feel like I understand (roughly, of course) what women and men with Body dysmorphic disorders see when they look at themselves. They see one thing when everyone tells them that they look like something else. Everyone can tell me that I'm tiny or thinner or that I look amazing, but I don't always see that. Sometimes I look in the mirror, and I see the girl I was almost a year ago. I know that's not the case, but the image is so real, that I understand why so many people believe it. 

I still love myself, though. I love my body. I cherish every bit of it. I love that I have full use of it. I love every scar, every hair, every stretch mark. Sure, I may not be able to witness every single pound shed and muscle grown with my eyes right away, but I have faith that one day, I'll see with clarity.

A body can be a cage sometimes. Yeah, like that Arcade Fire song, guys. But it's your cage. Make it a home, not a prison. 

Today, I'm Gonna Eat

I love food. I love eating food. I love smelling food. I love ordering food. I love looking at food. Yeah, so I pretty much love everything about food and eating. The only thing I don't like about food is that it is limited and will be gone eventually. It's one of the things that keeps me alive, so why wouldn't I love it? Some people, though, seem to think that you can't eat if you want to look good. Apparently, the only way to get skinny is to become a rabbit and only eat like nothing at all every single day. Uh, no.

In the last 9 months, I've lost 60 freaking amazing pounds (and I'm still dropping, by the way). I guess that is supposed to make me an expert on health and fitness and weight loss (well, that's just what I assume from all the questions I get about what I do or if I have any tips on how someone else can drop some weight). Newsflash, I'm not an expert. I just saw weight loss as a no-brainer after a while. Also, I've been on so many damn diets and nutrition plans over the last 20 years of my life, that I already had a general idea of what you need to do to boost your health and drop some lard.

If there is one piece of advice I could give anyone trying to lose weight it's this: please eat. 

I'm constantly asked by people who knew me before I shrunk a million sizes, "Angela, what do you eat? Girl, you look so good!" I eat whatever the hell I want. That's my answer. While I have adjusted my eating habits (for instance, I don't stuff my face full of junk food all the time. Common sense, guys), I don't restrict myself on anything. I don't see the point. I love food way too much to police myself. That just creates misery. Plus, at least when I don't see numbers drop the scale, I know why.... unlike if you're not eating and not dropping.

My goal is to look good, feel good, and be able to live life. If I get down to a size 6 and can't eat Bruce's freaking orgasmic taco soup because I'm afraid it will cause me to gain weight or that it will make me any less beautiful than I already am, that's not living. There are so many fattening meals that I haven't tried or even imagined yet, and, dammit, when I get a chance to eat those things, I want to be able to jump right in without thinking twice.

The other night, I was talking to my friend Taylre about needing new jeans because my current pairs are a bit large on me, and she made an amazing point. She said that she'd rather buy new pants than stop eating cookies because cookies are the shit. (Those aren't her exact words, but whatever).  Gaining weight or a bit of pudge in the stomach is not the end of the world. It doesn't mean you're ugly or worthless or something nasty. It just means you need new clothes. 

So, yeah, today, I'm going to eat and not worry about my weight. I'm going to eat because my body needs food. Hungry and skinny doesn't equal beautiful or healthy. So, if you're hungry, go eat. Go eat whatever sounds good. Your body is probably trying to tell you something. I always listen to my cravings to see what my body needs. You should too.

Lesson learned: I love a plate of nachos that is bigger than my head. I'm a classy girl, guys. 

***This week's National Eating Disorder Awareness week. If you'd like to learn more about being informed about eating disorders, check out this article on ActiveMinds.***