Be Kind to Yourself

Madras and my awesome Oregon tan.


This was not the post I planned to write today.

I’m not going to lie: I’ve packed on the pounds this winter. Partly because it was a hard winter, and exercising outside was difficult to work into the drill. But mostly because it was stressful. The pressure of dealing with contractors and lawyers and a home that has been torn apart: well, it was depressing. Hello Brownies. Hello Netflix. What’s this exercise thing you’re talking about? 

But I cannot get away with that anymore. Where I used to gain weight fairly uniformly, these days I pack it on in the middle. And pack it on this winter I did! There should be an Olympic Sport for Stress Eating!

The thing is, I was doing OK before the house debacle imploded in my face and I found myself living in a destruction zone dealing the horror. I had lost half the weight I needed to (over half, 16 lbs!) by September and dropped almost 2 sizes. I was trying on 12-s and lamenting that my cute summer  clothes wouldn’t fit me next year. 

Which means I can lose the weight again. But dang, people, it’s HARD. Hard work. I started a new exercise regime this week in addition to all the walking IZ and I do. I love the walks, and they keep me healthy, but it’s not been enough to get these pounds around my to budge. And because I was diabetic with my pregnancy, I run a higher risk of developing type two diabetes, so I’m mindful of the weight gain.

That, and I’m cheap. I don’t want to buy new clothes in a larger size. I want to wear my cute summer clothes. But, um, those clothes don’t fit this year. That makes me sad. 

Anyhow, I don’t know about you, but I have this inner dialog that plays out every time I go shopping. It goes a little like this:

Me: Hmm… these are cute.

Inner Voice: Yeah, but, come on, they’re a size larger than the jeans you have on now.

Me: Which means they’ll probably fit.

IV: but I can’t really wear that size. YOU can’t wear that size.

Me: Um… news flash. We do wear that size.

IV: but you don’t have BUY that size. 

Me: Yes, but they’re cute and they’re like, $7 bucks and at a thrift store. Surely you can just try them on.

Inner Voice: You can try them on, I’ll just be over here browsing the delusional aisle. 


Of course my inner voice is equally delusional when I find something marked in a smaller size that fits, say a 12, when I know darn well I don’t wear a wear a 12. My inner voice needs a time out.

It’s also hard emotionally. I don’t have a magic size I want to be. I really just want to be healthy. That being said, being healthy isn’t carrying this excess weight around my middle. I don’t just feel it my joints and in my range of motion, I feel it my heart. I know I don’t look my best and that leads to not feeling my best. 

So, today–when I found 2 pairs of brand new shorts at the thrift store, and they were the size I don’t want to be, I told my inner voice to hush up.

Because those shorts fit. And I feel good about myself in them. And they were brand new and cute and my size today

This was not the post I planned to write today. But I needed to write it, and maybe you need hear it, too: BE KIND TO YOURSELF!

Now, I’m going to go cut the tags out of these shorts and take a nice long walk with IZ.


*on a completely different note: SCORE! 2 brand new pairs of shorts at the thrift. Someone take me to California, STAT. 


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