Clothes

It's really all about the clothes, isn't it, in the end?  No, not really, HONEST, it's about my health, but just as a side effect, it's about the clothes.

So I've lost some weight.  God knows how much, because...well, I said.  So some weight.  More than 10.  Probably not quite 15, though I'd like to believe it was.  Enough, however, to now notice a change in my clothes.  Also, this morning, although I could scarcely spare the time, I tried on some skirts.  They fit.  They didn't used to. T-shirts that were bulging--or causing me to bulge, more accurately, are now hanging loose.  My bras are fitting differently.  Bracelets are bigger.

I've written lots and lots about how scary it is to lose weight.  I was apparently talking through my hat.  I was very invested in the duality of losing weight and at the same time saying it was okay to be...large (I have trouble with the F word and even more with the O word).  That's a hard place to be, because it keeps you with one foot in each camp.  Funny, this time I don't find it even remotely scary.  I want to see who I am under all that.  I want to see who comes out.  I feel different now when I shower--I keep wanting to hit the wrong places, or something, or I reach for a spot and my hand keeps going, if that makes any sense--and rather than feeling, as I used to say, unprotected, I think--huh.  So this is what it sort of feels like to be little.  I want to really know what it feels like to be little.