I am officially only 2.4 pounds heavier than I was in high school.
This is a momentous occasion.
I thought I was such a heifer my senior year of high school, 165 pounds at 5'5 and miserable about it. I joined Weight Watchers in April of 2006. By September of 2006 I was down to my lowest weight ever, 133 pounds.
Of course, I still saw myself as huge, fat, grotesque. Looking back at pictures now, it breaks my heart to remember the loathing I felt when I looked in the mirror, when I should have felt nothing but pride.
I went away to college, gained it all back plus more, dieted again, lost it again, you know how it goes. At my highest weight in 2010 I was 199.5 pounds. On January 1st of this year, approaching my 24th birthday, I was 195, and joined WW again.
Today, I'm 167.6, bitches. Almost back where I started six years ago.
It's different, this time. I've learned that true change cannot come from a place of self-hate, but from a place of self-love. The choices I'm making are for health and happiness, not to achieve some unattainable ideal of beauty. I'm not filled with shame. I don't feel bitter. I don't hate myself.
I'm learning that exercise is not a punishment for being fat. I'm learning to love what my body is capable of. I'm learning to love sweat.
I'm starting to cook. I'm currently having a love affair with leafy lettuce. I can go out to a restaurant, and make good choices. I can indulge in cupcakes, and get back on track tomorrow.
I can really do this. I am doing this. And it feels amazing.