Size 6, people. 6.
To be fair, I'll note that these are size 6 'Curvy' jeans from the Gap, which means I'd be an 8 in anything else. But when I left Australia I was struggling into a size 10 of these jeans, and when I started losing weight I had got all the way up to a size 14 - they was a bit big for me, true, but the 12s were too small so I wasn't far off.
I don't know how much weight I've lost. I never, ever look at scales because I worked out a long time ago that the numbers only upset me - in my head, I'm a 43 kg Japanese teenager and anything that contradicts that makes me cry - so I go by my clothes. I'm at least a size smaller now than I was at my previous smallest, which was back in 2004 after my IBS was at its worst and my weight crashed down because I didn't eat for two or three months (funny how that works), but I'm not sure what that equates to. I've looked at some websites to try to work out how much weight lost equals a size lost; the consensus seems to be that the smaller you are, the less weight you need to drop to lose a size, and for small girls 8-10 lbs (3.5-4.5 kg) will bring you down a size. I reckon it would have been more for me, certainly at the start; but I think it'd be safe to say I've lost 20-25 kg.
I'm still a big girl. I don't think I ever won't be. I have too much thigh for my size, and no matter how much weight I lose it seems that that will always be the case. (According to a maternity/pedi nurse I work with, the only time women really lose weight off their thighs is when they breastfeed. Not worth it, but thanks for the information.) And I have a big ass, and tits that enter a room about 15 minutes before the rest of me, and while they're both a bit more proportionate to the rest of me now I'm never going to be without them unless I undergo an extensive series of liposuctions.
But the weird thing is that I keep catching myself in mirrors and not recognising my body. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I swear it's true: I'll be in the locker room at the gym and I'll see a reflection out of the corner of my eye, and I will have to look again to realise that it's me. I look at the clothes I can wear now and I can't believe I can fit into anything that size. I still feel way bigger than I actually am, and I don't know what to do about that. And I'm worried that I'll get really big again, because it's so fucking easy for that to happen. I hope that the changes that I've made will stick, but I could undo all of this work in a couple of bad months, and that's scary.
For now, though, I'm feeling good. I have very few clothes that fit me well, which is annoying, and I don't have money to replace them, which is even more annoying, but apart from that I'm fucking thrilled. My original goal was to lose the size and a half I put on when I moved home; I then changed it to lose another size after that, to bring me down to an 8, so that I was into single-digit sizes for the first time ever; but then I wanted to come down to a 6 in the jeans so I'd be an 8 in everything else. I'm here now, and I think I'm okay with staying here... for now. My next goal is to complete the American Lung Association Stair Climb in February: 41 stories, 82 flights, 789 steps. It sounds like a goddamn nightmare, but I wanted something to train for; I can't run or cycle because they both fuck my back, and I already know I can walk for ages without a problem, so I needed something else and this seemed like a good place to start. It means doing a lot of stairclimbing cardio and endurance work at the gym, and I'm hoping that even if it doesn't help me lose more weight/inches off my thighs, it might at least help me build up more muscle there so I look more toned - which would be a nice thing to have in place for the weekend after the Stair Climb, when I'll be flying down to sunny Florida to try to catch a bit of sun... oh, and to meet The Lawyer's family.
So yes, some things are changing.
XOXO
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