This time last year, I was 18 pounds heavier than I am today, and I wasn't very happy about it.
Clothing-wise, I was buying tops in size large for the first time in my life, and I was wearing clothing between a size 10 and a size 12.
I've spent the last year reducing my carb and sugar intake and the weight came off. Now, I wear a medium and waver between a size six (on a good day) and eight. I was really, really happy about getting to a weight that I believe I can fairly easily maintain for the rest of my life ...
And then I read a Facebook status update from a friend.
On it, she crowed about the fact that she had lost 20 pounds as well. She said she was tired of feeling fat and flabby, and she was soooo proud of herself, because she had gone from a size eight to a size four!! (And by the way, she's about my height and, like me, has a medium build.)
I had thought I was finally thin and fabulous. But after reading her words, I realized I was actually, by her standards, fat and flabby.
The whole situation really made me think about choosing my words carefully when I talk about losing weight. Because I'm sure there are plenty of women reading these words who used to be a size 16 and now can wear a 10 -- I don't want them to read what I write and feel bad about not being a six.
Do you know what I mean?
So my question for you is ... why does size matter so much to us?
I'd love for the size I wear to be of no importance. But I'll be honest -- it totally is. If I think about it, I even have very vivid dressing room memories, good and bad, of slipping into size two dresses back in my single days, for example -- and later, of not being able to zip up size 12 jeans after having children.
I really wish that size didn't have an impact on my self-esteem.
And I'm afraid it always will.
Image via sporkist/Flickr