So I am a 27F who has gone from 245 lbs in July 2019 to 191lbs as of this morning. It’s been a slow process, extremely so, with just some basic exercising (~25 minutes to an hour of daily walking, 2-5 days a week with a light workout of about 30 minutes that is either cardio or weight lifting, and generally learning portion control without punishing mistakes). The goal was to switch to healthy habits and try to make myself feel good about the habits themselves than feel good about the number on the scale.
Most of the weight loss has been in quarantine, so outside of an occasional videochat with some of my friends, most people haven’t seen me. In fact, I occasionally forget that I’ve lost any weight at all. Then about a week ago, I was joking around in the sun with my housemates, and they took a picture of me in a a sports swimsuit (think bikini, but covered more skin).
I should preface this next bit and say that I’ve had some rough dating experiences in the past — one guy told me that I was “fun to be around but fat girls like you just aren’t attractive” (despite him telling me loud and clear on the first date how attractive and beautiful I was to try and get in my pants). He wasn’t the first, and he wasn’t the last. That was how I was viewed by most people, including myself. I was fun, I could be cute, but I wasn’t beautiful and I wasn’t really worth much as a partner.
After some encouragement from friends, I joined a dating app again and posted pics of myself (including the swimsuit pic). The difference in treatment I’ve gotten has been radical. Some of that is the skin I’m showing, sure—but I’ve shown the same amount of skin in a dating profile before. People who I would normally think were way out of my league are messaging me, asking me out, and matching with me. When I was heavier, I got maybe a quarter of the matches I did last week.
Here’s the important message though — it’s not just the weight.
The real difference is in me.
My self esteem is higher. I can turn down people I don’t like without worrying about whether they might have been the best I could get. I’m nicer. I’m friendlier. I laugh more easily. I’m no longer desperately swiping out of loneliness, nor am I hanging off their every message obsessively, and someone unmatching me is no longer the blow to my self esteem that it used to be. The last two years has finally allowed me to slowly start to love myself, and I’m genuinely comfortable being single. I am comfortable in my skin for the first time in years. I’m no longer trying to hide.
I’m just... happier. Content.
I went through my closet soon afterwards and threw out all the clothes that were now too big. I’d spent so long trying to cover up and hide myself and my body that my clothes were oversized even at my heaviest.
I’ve still got about 40 more pounds to lose, but I just wanted to tell someone that progress isn’t always fast. I’ve cried in the gym some days when I feel I’m not progressing. I struggled to keep motivated during quarantine, and I still occasionally binge eat. But for whoever needs to hear it — that’s okay. Be kind to your struggling self.
Looking at where I was two years ago mentally, physically, and emotionally... the journey is worth it.
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