I keep forgetting what size I am.
More accurately, I have no idea what size I am.
Part of this is because I've lost weight and part of it is because everyone who designs clothing for women is smoking crack and apparently it would just be so very difficult/such a blow to our ego/or just you know, SANE, to do things like put our waist size on our jeans instead of making us try on forty-eleven pairs to figure out which ones actually fit.
A few weekends ago (I think...time is going really off-kilter for me these days) I tried on every pair of "work" pants I have (I don't often have to wear such things, but once or twice a year I am forced to) and none of them fit. Some of them were comically huge and some were just plain too big. Fine, nice. Yay. Whatever. Good problem to have I guess, except it means I have to spend money. Which, despite what my bank account would tell you, is not really something I enjoy.
So I went to a store that I don't find completely repugnant and tried on pants. Out of the sixty pairs I tried on (lie, it was more like seven. But it FELT like sixty), two were exactly identical in every way except color. Same brand, same style, same size, same everything except color. One fit fine. The other I couldn't get past my hips. I'm not kidding.
I didn't buy any pants. I was very disgruntled and made ugly faces whilst trying them on. And maybe said something snarky about my butt. Twice. Maybe.
I wear a lot of dresses these days. Not because I'm fancy, just because I like them. I bought two recently (on clearance, woo!). They were vastly different sizes, but fit almost exactly the same. I should really stop caring what size is on the tag, but seriously? It would make my life so much easier if I just sort of approximately knew what size to look at.
Okay and the worst part of what happened lately? I have these mommaw arms and I just seriously don't even know what to do about it. You know what I'm talking about...the flaps. I'm FLAPPY. So I'm on my deck, enjoying the weather, I lean back and, I swear to God this is true, I catch my arm fat behind the chair and the deck railing and pinch the crap out of my own arm. Out of my own ARM FAT.
It immediately bruises and makes a huge welt and I said to Jason, "Well. This is a wake-up call."
Because what do I do? Lift the heaviest weights possible forever? Maybe? Does arm fat just not go away? Do I need surgery?
So. In summary:
I'm approaching 150lbs lost (oh my God) and my arms are still flappy.
I still have no idea what size I am.
I'm still not a supermodel.
I don't know what to do about any of this.
I saw someone commenting on getting arm surgery on your facebook page but not if you replied or not. I recently had some moles taken off when I had a cyst taken of my eye. The doctor talked me into it, I was terrified it wouldn't be covered under insurance. Don't get me wrong, we still had to pay for it, but not as much as I thought. It actually made a huge difference on how I look at myself in the mirror. They weren't bad, but they weren't cute, either. Getting rid of them actually made me feel prettier. Not in a vain way, but like I didn't focus on the 'blemishes' anymore. So if you think it would help you to have some tucking done, then I say go for it. People who lose a large amount of weight often have it done, and sometimes it can be covered by insurance. If it's something you're interested in, I say at the very minimum check it out. If it's causing you issues then it could be construed as necessary. Blessings to you for keeping it real, year after year. PS tell your kids to quit growing up! They were so small when I started reading your blog!
Also buying pants is a pain in the butt. I literally tried on 20 pair at minimum and spent 2 hours just to find one pair of capris and one pair of 'nicer' pants since none of mine fit, and the rest that kind of fit quite literally shredded from 10 years of use the fall before. I tried on..5 different sizes, and like you, the same size didnt' even come close to fitting on the same pants in different colors.
Oh honey, that's not arm fat. It's skin. Empty skin. That's why it was able to collapse in on itself and pinch in the first place.
I've lost a similar amount of weight. I still feel like I have lots of fat everywhere, but then I reality-check myself and I take that protruding stomach and I see if I can ball it up in my hand and fold it in on itself. If you can do that, it's not fat -- it's skin.
You can find a lot of "folk" remedies for excess skin, but none of them work. No cream or oil, no particular kind of workout, nothing helps skin except plastic surgery to remove it.
It really messes with your mind, for sure, to see all this skin/fat still hanging off you everywhere. And it can seriously mess with the fit of your clothes. It's not fair that you go through all this work and still have to deal with the skin. But hopefully it helps to realize that this is completely out of your control and not your fault in any way?
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