As you may or may not know (and most likely don't care), over the last year-plus, I have lost a bit of weight. My doctor said in March that it was in the neighborhood of 40 pounds. And I know I have lost some since then.
Apparently, the most recent bit of weight I lost was doing some important work. Last weekend, after yoga on Saturday, my left hip was kind of sore. It wasn't my abs. I worried momentarily that I had a cyst or a tumor. Nope. It wasn't on the inside. But I couldn't see anything, so I brushed it off. I had yoga again on Wednesday. On Thursday, at work, I noticed both hips were sore. Again, I wondered if it wasn't my abs, as we'd done ab work in class the night before. That was not it, though. At least the pain was on both sides this time, so I didn't have to worry about some sort of growth.
When I got home from the gym later that day and was about to hop in the shower, I looked in the mirror: I had bruises on my hips. From yoga. Specifically, from doing Bow Pose. I rock back and forth in Bow Pose, and sometimes roll from one side to the other. And I did that on Wednesday (my instructor couldn't even roll onto her side). So, it's my entire body weight resting on my hips. However, I've been doing the pose for years -- I do it in my living room, for Christ's sake. Now I'm suddenly getting bruises on my hips?
I get bruises on my knees from doing the balance in Table Pose and I sometimes get really awful-looking bruises on the backs of my arms from doing Crow Pose. Those places are delicate or there's not much padding. But my hips still have plenty of padding, y'all. What will happen if I lose more weight?
The hip bruises are just the latest in a string of things I wasn't expecting. My hips and shoulders hurt when I sleep on my side on The Boy I Currently Like's futon. My knees sometimes hurt when I'm laying on my side to sleep because there is much less padding there than before. My hands are getting all veiny.
This one makes me sound like a 12-year-old, but ... my body is changing. I see myself in the mirror and I now feel like I'm starting to look different. It's difficult to explain. I guess the best way to explain it is that over the course of the first 40 pounds or so, I just looked like I was getting smaller, with everything in the same place. Now, it seems like something about my shape is changing. That makes no sense, I'm sure. Maybe I'm just crazy.
People keep telling me I'm getting tiny or small (or the less-nice "wasting away") or I look super-skinny. And I know they mean well and relatively speaking, compared to how I looked a year ago, they might be on to something. But let's be real people -- I am never going to be tiny or small or skinny. NEVER. It isn't possible. I believe The Boy's assessment of my legs could be extrapolated to the rest of me. He said he'd noticed how good my legs were looking and that, while they weren't skinny, they were well-built. Or solidly-built. Something like that. Muscular. ("Like Dolly Parton started speedskating," was the imagery he used. That is PRICELESS IMAGERY people.) Solidly-built is what I am. And I'm okay with that. My big feet and broad shoulders can't get skinny. Such is life.
I'm not even going to go on another rant about clothes and bras getting too big after a couple of months. That's a superficial indicator of what's going on, I guess.
Lately though (and this happened the first time I bought smaller jeans last year), I've been freaking about having to drop another jeans/pants size. Is there supposed to be some big change in me? Should I be happier? More carefree? I shouldn't have this anxiety, I'm pretty sure. What can the smaller me use as an excuse if people don't like me? Before I could always just say it was because I was fat and gross. That's why all of those first dates never turned into second dates. That's why the first interviews didn't turn into second interviews. That's why I lost my job. That's why ... whatever.
Now? Well, it's because I'm ugly or my hair is gross or I'm zitty or I'm a bitch or my personality sucks or I'm not smart enough or I drink too much or I'm annoying or I'm just not fucking good enough. Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself, 'cause I'm still pretty fat and gross. I'm working on it, though.