Okay, I just got off the phone with my mom.
I go to her for what people go to me for. Reality check. You see, I never know if I am actually right, or if I've justified and argued and conVINCED myself that I'm right.
So... we had a huge talk about "normal". We talked about my bone structure. We talked about my weight. We talked about my measurements. We talked about my journey. We talked about my goals. We talked about my language.
She told me last year that she thought I was done. I didn't listen. When I freaked out and mindfucked myself when I hit 145, Sam told me I was done. I didn't listen. When anyone looked shocked when I said I wanted to lose more, I didn't listen.
Why didn't I listen? Because what the hell do they know? I have educated myself out the whazoo when it comes to diet, excercise, nutrition, weightloss, etc. I know numbers, BMI's, all sorts of stuff. I am WAY more educated (in my own mind) than they are, so how can they POSSIBLY be right. They don't know me. They don't know my body. They don't know my numbers. They don't know.
But my doctor does. He's more educated than I am. So him telling me to be done? That's like you jogging along a path... you are jogging, jogging, jogging, having a good time, tra la laing in your head, jogging, feeling your body, learning your body as a jogger when BAM. Wall. Someone who knows more than you slams a wall in front of you and says DONE. You are no longer a jogger.
So what the fuck am I??? PANIC!!!!!!
Normal. Mom and I got really deep into the normal debate. And it comes down to defining normal. And to WHOM normal is being defined. I'm talking to her, and staring at the pics below of my ribcage. And I'm talking about smaller clothing sizes. I say to her "there's no fat on my ribs, because I can count my ribs, so obviously, no fat" and she says, "right, so if you put on a smaller size, where the hell are you going to put that ribcage?"
I have a large ribcage. Always have. Sam and I fit into the same tops. Why? She has huge bazombas and I have a wide back. It balances out, and we fit the same size tops even though we are shaped completely different. I had to look at the practicality. The practicality of clothing sizes. Tops are always going to be bigger because of my ribcage, not because of fat. Pants are always going to be bigger because I have a hippy bone structure. Not because of fat. I have extra skin that will squish out the top if I wear too small. It's a muffin top, but it's actually NOT fat, it's all the skin that held an extra 60lbs on my body. THAT is my reality.
I have always been a reality based person, so I needed to be slapped upside the head by the two people that actually know my reality better than me. The doctor, who has the education, and my mother, who's body is exactly like mine. Even when she was too skinny, at 98 pounds with an 18 inch waist, she still had a large ribcage and large hip measurment. That is our bone structure.
Okay, I am slowly wrapping my head around the fact that normal is different for every person. And I am normal... for me. I have a great shaped body, that is fit and healthy. The only thing is that there is a swack of extra skin. Without a tummy tuck, that's not something I can do something about. It is what it is. It is reality. It's my normal.
Mom says to me " you are never going to be normal, you are always going to be better". Okay, she's my mom, she has to say that. But then she asks me, "how many women your age do you see that are as healthy as you?" Practically none. "How many are as shapely as you?" Practically none. Go out in public and look at all the women in the malls, in the grocery stores. Really look. I know a few shapely, in shape women, but not at my age, and not as healthy as I am working to be. Not a lot, anyways. To which mom asks "so you want to be normal?? You want to be like everybody else?" Huh. No.
I have a different normal. So do you. And you. And you.
I have to let go of my BMI. I have to let go of smaller clothing. I have to find a new goal. A new path to jog on. Strength training? What does that really mean? I've never looked beyone "getting healthy". Okay, I'm here now... now what? Keep doing what I'm doing? Where will that take me? Do I need to have a goal? I think so. The word "maintaining" freaks me the fuck out. It signifies the end of the journey. I don't WANT the journey to end, because it's been a great positive goal for me. I need a new journey. One not based on weight loss.
Maybe I need to journey to a place of deeper understanding of health. A deeper education about fitness. I've got the nutrition stuff down pretty good. Maybe the next phase of my life will be about building endurance, strength, speed, who knows?
You know what? Mom lambasted me. She said to me "you've done it. You are there. Congratulations, honey, you did it. I'm so proud of you." I had such a lump in my throat I couldn't even talk.
I did it. I'm there. I'm healthy. I'm slender (with excess skin). I. Did. It.
I will never be normal. Normal in our world, here in North America, is overweight. Size 14 is the average. I'm between and 8 and a 10 (the odd 12, but it really depends on the brand). That is well below normal.
I'm not normal. I'm better than normal.
Thanks for listening,
If you have issues, or baggage, you may be offended by what you read here. I work through my self loathing of my own fat, and my own fat issues, and I’m told this comes across as loathing all fat people. That is simply not the case.
Here I talk about my issues and my findings, without political correctness. I am not concerned with your issues, or your baggage, or what you may take from this. The title is "My Journey".
This blog is not meant to inspire anyone. I take no responsibility for what you take away from here. You are here as a guest into my inner thoughts.