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CW: Unintentional Weight Loss. Mourning the fatness.

I have self identified bodily and personally as a fat person for a very long time.  For years I was a pretty comfortable size 16/18ish. Things with my body were going pretty well.

And then (not literally) suddenly I was not fat anymore.

This has not been easy or felt very good. This is not about some new miracle unicorn pee weight loss thing. I realized just past Black Friday last year after I purchased some winter clothing that I no longer knew how to buy clothes for the body I have, I don’t know immediately what size to buy. I don’t know my body anymore.

In the mirror my body doesn’t look like my own. My belly is not my belly. It’s a weird smaller belly. My butt, my fucking butt no longer fills out my pants. Even my smaller pants. There is not enough booty in the pants and it feels weird.

I’ve been really struggling with my body image at this size. I’m (I finally measured) about a size 10-12. Solidly no longer plus size (except in the boobs/shoulders) and in the bullshit limbo between jrs and grown up woman. I feel self conscious and aware of my body in a way that isn’t nice and I don’t like it.

I’ve been hating my body quite a lot.

This is not the body I was in love with.

People have called me tiny. Some friends have been worried about my health in a real holy shit are you sick kind of way.

I’m pretty healthy metabolically speaking. My generally low BP is what it is, I’ve been working very hard to not let my blood sugar crash and to eat regularly and well. I’m working on my stress levels and everything.

But-

Again the magical idea of weight loss hasn’t made anything better for me. When I first noticed it, I was completely devastated. I’d saved up some money for clothes from one of the awesome fatty boutiques priced stores and yeah no. Emotionally, I’m heartbroken.

On one level I feel the loss and fear that I won’t have my fat community anymore. There are folks who I’ve known for years. This isn’t a reflection on them, it’s on my own loss.

I feel like it’s more difficult to explain my body politics because why should the formerly fatass be talking about fat folks stuff? The fact that my opinions and ideas about bodies and fatness haven’t changed, I find it harder to get through the initial impression my actual body makes on folks that then makes it hard for them to engage with the words that are coming out of my mouth.

And, if I’m going to keep it 100% I am in mourning. I’m mourning my fatness, and my belly and my side rolls and my slightly rounder booty and how I could pack it in a size 14 dress and look like a chubby vixen cartoon character and how my butt looked in my size 16 Old navy The sweetheart pants.

I’m mourning having to reteach myself to use my online thrifting super power.

I’m mourning fatness.

I’m mourning the body I loved and it’s been really fucking hard. Folks who follow me around the internet have seen that it’s rare I post OOTD’s anymore. I used to say it was a lack of a good way to take them, but the truth is I just didn’t want people to see my body.

I’ve spent a lot of time denying that this has been  happening. My pants were just stretched out because they are old. It’s totally normal to have to hold up your pants with a hair tie. Totally normal for your new tights (bought for your old sized ass) fall down when you walk. It was fine.

I was fine.

I’m not fine.

I’ve been slowly culling my clothes. Purging the worn out ugly shit I have held on to because I’m afraid to invest in pieces, lest the size of my ass change again.

I’m trying to adjust.

I’m trying not to be angry at myself and my ass. I’m trying to learn to love this new body. I’m suspicious of it. I’m a little afraid of it.

I’m trying to see the silver lining. Clothing options in my price range have increased and because I’m deeply aware of this privilege it makes me very angry.

I haven’t talked a lot about this with anyone even my Wifey (my best friend of almost 20 years) because it’s so fucking hard. My feelings are all over the place, but are mostly bad. I want my fat ass back. I don’t want to be so hateful towards my body. That is something I have done so much emotional work around I feel like I’m having to start over again.

But this is a start.

This is also another reason why I wanted to start blogging again. These are big, complicated feelings that I need my own space to work through.

All this said, in an attempt to do a little bit of reclamation this is me now.

Behold an OOTD from the bathroom of a fancy hotel.

artho

The author, a chubby Black woman wearing a long black dress. 

There I am now.