
I don't own a scale, but if I did, I'd
throw it out of the window. Jay-Z (or someone of the sort) said, “Men
lie, women lie, but numbers do not lie.” I beg to differ. I stepped
on the scale and those damn three numbers lied like their lives
depended on it. While they may actually tell my weight, they don't
tell the back story of everything. Those numbers don't tell me that
I'm happy with my weight. They don't say that I'm of “normal”
proportions. All they do is tell me how heavy I am.
Numbers aren't shit. I'm not ashamed to
admit that, since graduating college, I've gained quite a bit of
weight. For the past few months, I've worked to reach my college
sophomore weight, 125. In all honesty, though I've gained the weight,
my body shape hasn't really changed. I still have the same hips, butt
and thighs I've had all my life. The numbers have increased (weight
and jean size), but nothing else has really changed.
In my post from last year, you may
remember my complaining about my grandmothers constantly reminding me
of the extra weight I'm carrying. Though I'm not my “ideal weight,”
I'm not exactly tripping, but their complaints have definitely hurt
my feelings. “Why aren't you the skinny granddaughter I used to
have?” “Look how much bigger your jeans are than mine.” Now
that I've gotten a gym membership and spend 3 days out of each week
there, they seem to be in better spirits. For the past few weeks,
I've been busting my ass to get back to 125 just to make them shut
up. Why am I busting my ass in the gym trying to pacify their needs?
Yes, I want to get back into shape, but reach their ideal weight for
me? That's what I'm not gon' do. **Insert ratchet gum popping here**
Today, while power-walking to Beyonce
on the gym treadmill facing the mirror, I had an epiphany. My goal
isn't going to be a number; it's going to be my happiness. I'm not
currently completely dissatisfied with my body, but I'm not exactly
where I want to be. As long as I am perfectly fine with seeing myself
naked or in a two-piece bikini, who the fuck cares what my weight is?
It can be 125 lbs or 150. As long as I'm healthy and happy, I don't care. Hell, there are self-proclaimed “fat” pin-up
models who are beautiful. So.... Fuck numbers, be happy.
♥P.
♥P.
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