Since there was a sale, I decided to hit up Old Navy and get some new jeans. Currently, I have 2 pair that sort of fit and figured one or two more pair wouldn’t be too bad an idea to get me through to summer.
A friend of mine graciously agreed to go with me (with the promise of cocktails after, natch!) and we met for our little adventure.
Shopping at “regular” stores is still a little overwhelming to me as I don’t know what size I wear – plus that keeps changing, which really doesn’t particularly help that situation. After years of the less than stellar selection of plus-sized clothing, having this giant cornucopia of fashion choices can be a little much – but I sort of know where I land in Old Navy land (good lord, this sounds like a big Old Navy commercial, which I swear it isn’t) so I get less stressed as I make baby steps into the land of clothes shopping.
I pull various things off racks, usually grabbing two sizes to see which might fit and head into the dressing room.
First up were tops, I was a little surprised to find that I was now in an L, same with both the dresses I tried on. Then came the jeans, my two previous pairs were 14s and the waist was pretty big on me and I was having to wear a belt to keep my britches up, so I shimmied into 12s.
12s.
For a TMI, I used to be in a women’s 20-22 range.
So…. 12s. TWELVES. (granted, this number varies depending on store/brand/style, but I’m takin’ it either way)
Pretty freaking awesome, right?
You’d think.
However, I was in the dressing room, looking at myself in sizes much smaller than I had worn just a year ago and I was telling myself I looked gigantic. There was no difference in how I looked, and I needed to go get a muumuu or something.
My brain discounted my 5+ mile hike from earlier in the day, my improved fitness, my demonstrably smaller body and told me I was giant and looked like crap.
W. T. F?!
I took a moment to breathe and really assess what I was looking at. I glanced over to the shirt I had worn into the store – a shirt that I had not been able to button before and was now loose. The jacket tossed beside it that also used to not button (we won’t go into how tight the arms used to be as well) and now had room enough to wear over a sweater.
And yet, I was discounting my running, my hiking, eating properly, weight loss, and every other change I had made and instead belittled and insulted myself.
After a few minutes, I chose to look at how one of the dresses had a sassy swing to it, a blue floral top showed off my emerging collar bones, the jeans fit pretty well (and I could still breath!!), and the XLs were mostly too big for me now. My mindset began to change and I felt better.
I still have trouble seeing the difference in my appearance much of the time, body dysmorphia is a real thing, my friends, but I am slowly learning to find ways to assess progress to serve as a reminder at how far I have come.
The next day, I went on another hike and even with my somewhat tired legs from the previous day, I rocked it.
Does anyone else go through the same mental battle? Care to share any tips for getting over that?
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