No More Fat Girl

Today was my last appointment with C., for a while, at least. I've run out of sessions and for now, I need to focus my money on other things. I'm going to put some aside in the hopes of buying 10 more sessions in another couple of months. Until then, however, the training wheels are off.

Roughly six months ago, I took a few small steps to a trainer's desk at the gym, and started a long, amazing journey to a new self. The first thing I had to do was to discard the notion that being fat is shameful. I had to start liking myself a little more if I was going to make this happen. I had had enough of being 30 years old, 5'2" and over 200 pounds.

I started this crazy path at 221 pounds. Too heavy for my height, too unhealthy. Out of shape, breathless at the top of one flight of stairs.

I joked about how sadistic B. was, but in truth, I looked forward to my workouts with him because I knew that every time he kicked my butt, my body got stronger. Every time I lost weight, my confidence grew. When my size-18 jeans got to sagging around my butt, I gloried in the purchase of size 16. When size 14 jeans zipped up without a fight, I celebrated more.

I've lost a total of 25 pounds--I need to lose about 65 more before I'm at goal. But I'm not so worried about that number anymore (as long as I NEVER AGAIN see a 2 in the hundreds place!!). I'm more worried about strength, the inches I continue to lose, the muscles I feel poking out in my arms, fighting against the fat. I revel in the hip bones and elbows I can once again feel without poking the hell out of myself. Everytime I see my shadow, I notice a definite hourglass emerging, just like it was in high school. I'll never be super-skinny, and I'm actually quite delighted that I'll always have womanly breasts, hips and booty. They're going to look amazing next to my toned tummy and short-but-awesome legs.

When B. moved and C. took over my training, I started learning crucial ideas about my nutrition. With her help, I've found great ways to get lean protein, healthy carbs, and tons of fruit and veggies into my diet. She allowed the good fats (cheese, avocado, olive oil) that B. had banished. My weight loss under her watch hasn't been as dramatic as it was with B.--but I've continued to lose inches and see my body change in huge ways.

So the training wheels are off. C. gave me some workouts I can use for the next month or so, and I will do everything I need to do to stay on track.

At the end of today's appointment, I thanked her for everything, and then, to my dismay, I got tears in my eyes. It is so hard to articulate how amazing this has been--how awesome it has been to ditch the depression and anxiety, to see my body change, become healthier, to become stronger. I'm no longer grossed out by my own sweat--instead, I see it as proof that I'm working hard. It turns out I've gained so much more than the weight I've lost.

C. gave me a hug and told me how proud I should be--and I am. It's the pride that's making me a blubbering idiot, hours later as I sit here typing this.

Tomorrow the club's manager is going to take my picture and have me write a few words. I'm going to be on the wall as a success story. I said to C., "But I'm not done yet!" She replied, "But you are still a success story. Look how far you've come."

Maybe my story can inspire someone else, just as I've been inspired by other pictures on the wall of the gym. That makes me happy. I'm a teacher--I live to inspire!

You may have noticed the title of this post, and the label. I've decided to ditch the fat girl. I'm still overweight, yes. But I'm not a fat girl anymore. I'm a strong girl, a hot girl emerging after a long, long hibernation. I will no longer define myself by the number on the scale, the size on the tag of my clothes, or my body fat. I will define myself by my strength, my persistence, and my ability to see this through.

And for tonight, I'll cry happy tears, full of pride.