Letting Go Of The Fat Girl

Disclaimer- I am not a dietitian, therapist this is my personal story
This is a repost from my previous Blogger account.

Franz Kafka’s short story, The Metamorphosis is one of my favorite stories since discovering it in my teens. On some level I have always related to the main character Gregor, who wakes up one morning to discover that he has transformed overnight into a giant roach. The isolation he feels from his family and the world around him has now manifested the physical. His family is horrified at what he has become and at first Gregor is as well. Then as the story goes on, he adjusts to his new life somewhat. Learning how to move around in his new body and the reality that his life is forever changed. This surrealist story resonated how I began to feel about my changing body.

As I lost weight, the transformation of my body began. First noticing my feet, they had muscles, actual defined muscles. I never knew feet could have muscles, never mind defined muscles. Then it was my upper arms and my thighs. They were no longer this flabby, pales skinned appendages. Instead they were becoming muscular and tanned. Part of me could not believe that they belonged to me. This was a few weeks into my new regimen and the results were beginning to show. Like Gregor I too had to learn how to live in my new body.

Then of course because the results were starting to show, those around me began to notice. Handling reactions from those around me ( all encouraging I should add) but getting attention for the changes in my body was hard. Not the encouragement I was getting or the questions people asked me. It was being the center of attention. Being exposed. It was knowing I was being watched now that the weight loss was noticeable. It had become real and there was no going back. I did not want to disappoint them and more so myself. While this put more pressure on me it was also the push I needed to keep going.

Moving about in this new body in my day to day life was a new challenge and exhilarating. Finding I could now climb a ladder with no fear of falling off or get into tight, small spaces with no problem. Marveling at how I was no longer as tired as I used to be doing the most mundane tasks. Have I mentioned how much better I sleep now? Now when I wake up I actually feel rested. This alone is reason enough to get out there and exercise! Sleeping better has made me a much less grouchy and moody person. Something to think about. Remember my first goal to be able to walk up the stairs without losing my breath? Yeah, accomplished that in a matter of weeks.

I yearned for new challenges during my workouts, adding exercises like doing stairs or adding laps. This also meant I had no excuse to slack off no matter how much I wanted to. That part was not so much fun. There were days when I was tired and would fall into doing things half assed. One day, I had a really bad workout with Jackson* ( I was convinced he would never show up at the park again). After we finished walking a lap he turned to me and said, “You deserve to run.” That was it. Nothing else needed to be said. It is something I remind myself of on those tough days, I deserve to run. I was fighting for my life.

On top of that I was still carrying myself as if I were a heavy person, slouching, shoulders rounded out. In some ways I was still trying to remain invisible. My clothes became too large for my now small frame. Part of my reasoning for not buying new clothes was that I was still in the process of losing weight ( something I am glad I did as my sizes dropped quickly and it would not have been worth the money investing too much into a new wardrobe). However I do know I held onto them in a weird attempt to hold onto the person I used to be, the fat girl.

Even once I was in the maintaining stage, I still had not bought the clothes I needed. To look at me one would think my shirts had swallowed me whole! It was not until I went shopping with a couple girlfriends that I began to embrace my new body. I had tried on a pair of jeans, the smallest size I have ever put on. My friend brought me another pair to try on, a size smaller. She insisted because the pair I had tried was saggy in the behind. To my surprise they fit! I stood there staring at myself in the dressing room mirror really looking at myself for the first time. The person staring back at me was a new person and it was time I welcomed her.

The fat girl was gone. I had to let her go, she represented everything I no longer wanted in life. She represented holding back, a lack of confidence in all aspects of my life. She does show up every now and again, the fat girl, the one who wants to hide from the world. I have to remind myself to stop slouching. Hold myself up with confidence. This body is no longer alien. It is me. This is where my relation to Gregor diverges, his transformation an end to his life. While mine has just begun to flourish.

Disclaimer- I am not a dietitian, therapist this is my personal story


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