21 October 2026

Straight up, I am not comfortable with other people talking about my body, especially not to my face. Specifically, I have always hated the "I'm so proud of you" comments when I've managed to drop a few pounds. Like, what? I was not worthy of you being proud until I met some arbitrary size about which I was unaware?

If you tell me I'm looking good, fine; that's not something that set off my inner 8 year old who probably still wants Mom to be proud, but for who I am, not what size I am.

Still...let's talk about my fat ass.

At my heaviest, post brain tumor when a lot of my hormones were all over the place, and my growth hormone was knocked down to zero, I gained a lot of weight. It was not wholly unexpected, but wholly unwanted. And I also ate my feelings a lot. There were a lot of feelings to feel around that time, understandably.

Doing that, though, resulted in more feelings, and they were not at all body positive. At my peak--and yes, I am admitting it publicly--I weighed somewhere in the 250-260 range. I was super uncomfortable. I resisted buying larger sizes because I AM GOING TO LOSE THIS FLAB so why bother?

Yeah. The result of that is a permanent discoloration of the skin around my waist. Years of tight pants will do that to you.

I slowly, very slowly, lost a bit here and there. And I went up here and there. Had I been plotting my weight, it wold have looked like this nice little wavy thing with impressive peaks and valleys. By the time my son got married, I was at 215 and convinced that was where I would be forever, because nothing had moved in a very long time.

But last year, something in me shifted. I'm 95% sure it was Amelia's birth; I want to be around for her life as long as I can. It still took a few months for the "I *AM* going to do this" determination to kick in. The Spouse Thingy had reached the same point, so we approached it together. Some changes were made, and one of the things that worked for us was changing when we had our main meal of the day. Most days now we have "dinner" at around 2pm, and in the evening we eat something light. 

Junk food was cut down. Not eliminated, because sometimes you just have to have some chocolate. But those two things made a huge difference.

I think I started this after my surgery last year, so it's been a full year of embracing those changes, and not really feeling like we're missing out on anything. We still go out to eat. We still have ice cream now and then. But neither of us has the capacity anymore to eat in volume. We share food when we're out sometimes. Or we share meals with Amelia when we take her out. But we eat less overall, and don't really feel the need for more now.

He's down 45 pounds, I think. I'm down 40 from last year. But overall? From my highest weight, I'm down about 100 pounds.

I'm in the size jeans I wanted.

I still have a spare tire I'd like to get rid of for vanity's sake, but the world will not end if I never manage to wear the really tight t-shirt I was hoping for (I mean, I could, and no one else would likely notice, but I would and that flab is still an emotional touch point for me.) For the first time since my early 30s, I am comfortable in my own body.

It's not perfect. It never will be. And that's all right.