10

In 8th grade I wrote a list of goals in my diary. One of those goals was to be a size 10. So many years later, 8th grade me has cause for celebration as I’ve finally reached that goal. For the first time in my adult life, I’m a perfect ten. In clothing sizes. The rest is still work in progress. Obvi.

When I made the decision to lose weight, I anticipated that the majority of the changes I would experience and have to deal with would be physical. I was excited to of course be smaller, but also do things like run faster, look better while playing my guitar, and walk around in a skirt all day without tights or shorts. After six months, I’ve achieved all those things, but have been surprised to find out that most of the changes are things shifting around in my head.

I am not the person I used to be. I have nothing to hide behind anymore. I know I was never the size of a house or even a small condo, but I’m starting to figure out that I used my weight as an excuse for so many things. Guys didn’t pay attention to me because I was fat. I wasn’t going to get that writing or acting gig cause it would go to someone thinner. There was no hope of looking good in a t-shirt. And I wasn’t allowed to be the center of people’s focus. All because I was a little bit bigger.

Now, if something doesn’t quite work out the way I want, I only have me to blame.  My crutch has disappeared and instead of looking for the problem externally, I have to turn my attention inward. Maybe my personality wasn’t at its best or maybe I just didn’t bring the greatest idea to the table or maybe I came from a different point of view than the situation called for. It appears skinny chicks have a lot more thinking to do and the opportunities for self-improvement are all a little less concrete. I’m not going to fix things simply by substituting water for soda.

And I’m excited. I’m excited to figure out who I am and who I’m going to be without using my tummy as a scapegoat every time there’s a bump in the road. Now instead of being Brianna the chubby girl, I’m just Brianna. My security blanket may be gone, but I have a new one and it’s just me. Minus a couple pants sizes. Obvi.

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