Voices. Many voices. One of the most prevalent bits of feedback that came out of our recent survey to help Just.Be.Enough. grow was the desire to hear many different voices share their stories of being enough. Which is why I love Fridays because in addition to the amazing regular contributors who write from Monday to Thursday, our Friday guest posts broaden our circle of voices even wider. Today’s voice comes from a dear friend of mine. I met Jodi locally through our DC-area network of women who blog. We chatted at great length on the train to NYC for BlogHer10 and have since become close in real life friends. She chronicles life at Jodifur and is here today sharing part of her journey toward being enough.
I recently took the rare opportunity to go shopping. By myself. My need for pants was reaching epic proportions as most of my pants were too big on me. And I’m not saying this to be all braggy, braggy – I’m saying it as a fact. When you lose 15 pounds your clothes are too big and your pants fall down. And that kept happening to me. Especially when I was working out.
I have been overweight most of my life. I was always a fat kid. I cannot remember a point in my life when I was not on a diet. Doug fell in love with me at my heaviest, so at least I know he loves me for me. Right before our wedding I took off over 30 pounds and became the thinnest I ever was through a combination of Weight Watchers, exercise, and crazy OCD. Weight Watchers points brought out this crazy, OCD, calorie-counting side in me that was probably a borderline eating disorder. But after the wedding my weight stabilized. And then I had Michael, gained the requisite amount of weight and took it off in a reasonable period of time with the crazy, OCD, WW-me again and exercise. Gym daycare is a fabulous thing when you have five months of maternity leave.
And then I just became this person I stopped recognizing. I always wanted to lose the last 10 pounds to get back to my “wedding weight,” but I worked out because I enjoyed it and it kept me sane and I ate reasonably well, mostly organic and non processed foods. I learned to enjoy cooking. But I also enjoyed wine regularly and an occasional treat and my weight was what it was. I just stopped caring about it so much. I learned to be happy.
So I escaped to the mall on Saturday for the torture that is jeans shopping. And after two hours (!) – and discovering it doesn’t matter if you are a size smaller all jeans still look terrible on you – I sucked it up and hit the really expensive jeans department at Nordstrom. And I tried on those brands that would never, ever, have fit me a short lifetime ago. Those really expensive brands that only certain girls could fit into. And they fit, and not even the biggest sizes. But I looked at the price tag and decided it no longer mattered that I could fit into $200 jeans and walked across the hall into another department, where I said to the salesclerk, “Those jeans over there are too young for me, and these jeans are too old for me. Don’t you have any 30-year-old jeans in this store?” She laughed and told me to go downstairs.
And I did. I bought two pair for the price of the truly expensive jeans I could have bought upstairs. And some cords that were seriously on sale, two sizes smaller than I normally wear.
And then I came home and got dressed up for a date night with my husband, where we shared a bottle of wine and I had a fantastic espresso creme brulee for dessert. Because while I like my new size, I like my life even more.
And then I worked out extra hard on Sunday to maintain it.
Jodi is one of the few native Washingtonians actually living in Washington. She works part time and lives with her husband, Doug, her son, Michael, as well as a dog, Foster, who has many, many issues. She started Jodifur because her husband kept telling her she reads so many blogs so might as well write one, and hasn’t stopped for four-plus years. She also Twitters, a lot, and is on Facebook too.