I like to think about things. I also like to question things – sometimes just for the sake of it.
I nerd myself into some things. Other things I am extremely uninterested in.
I have also become a climate change aunt, despite mine so far, in the context, young age.
On this blog you can read most of what fits in my world of thought. From social criticism to beauty 40+ to embarrassing stories to…
Welcome! 🙂
This yoga thing has really changed my life. It's not wise what happens to stuff. Both physically, mentally and mentally. Today I thought – again, focus on the physical because so much is happening there. I am once again facing a change where my chin lands on the hill, from the third floor. 😮
I have told that I went from bra size 95C to (where I am right now) size 80D. That alone is completely insane. I never had, even in my wildest fantasies, could have imagined that I could have such small bra sizes. I got home my two new bras pretty much exactly two weeks ago, and I snapped one at the bottom after only a few days, and the other took a few days before I could snap it in as well.
It exists as well only two options, I feel.
Either have the bra sizes changed in the last twenty-five years or so, or the quality is so outrageous that they stretch out at once. However, I am extremely skeptical of the latter, because I bought the same bra in several different sizes – and the first (95C) was like new after one year of use. I judge it to be quite good quality. It's more likely that the sizes have changed since I was a teenager. That was when I had size 85 (I may have had size 80 during a period, but it's so long ago that I actually do not remember for sure).
Because it can namely not be possible that I have reduced so much that I need to buy new bras again – and next time I need to buy 75. I will not be buying new bras until mid-January due to the economy, but then – what happens if I buy 75 and they get too big in a couple of weeks? 😮 When it stops and becomes stable, as well as?
I do not think that you necessarily understand how completely improbable and impossible this is. When I realized I needed to buy size bras 85 I was about to explode. I remember it extremely well – I was talking to a friend outside her balcony, and I gaped as undressed as you do sometimes when you can not believe that something is in a certain way. It starts to approach the same feeling again.
I realize and recognizes that my self-image does not necessarily have time for what is actually happening to the body. I have neither weighed nor measured myself all the time, because I am extremely uninterested in the number of kilograms and centimeters (but eventually I learn to measure myself when I start sewing new clothes). The bra sizes are the only measure I have to go for, and that actually tells me something.
That which irritates me is that the body does not shrink proportionately (I know I'm nagging about it, but it really bothers me), although I see that my whole self has decreased quite significantly. Some clothes are so ridiculously big now that I yawn so undressed again because I know how they sat when I sewed them.
I have wonders many, many years thought I had the misfortune to get grandma's body. She was also big and shapeless, like me. But now I'm starting to wonder if I'll look like grandma and dad when they were old and awkward. Because I really experience that all abundance flows from me – and there is much left that will drain off. And when everything that should not be there has disappeared – shit, there will probably not be much left. 😮
Can you understand what an extreme and absurd mental adjustment this entails? For years I have believed that I could never physically change my body, that it had decided to be big, disproportionate and informal. I had come to terms with the idea that I will always be single, for there is no one who can love a person with my body. I have barely been able to see myself in the mirror without feeling disgusted by how grotesque I looked. During all these years, I have felt like anything but a human being, for believe me – it does not matter in which way you break the norm; you stand outside and become only your norm-breaking appearance.
That based on this all of a sudden start to feel different, and it is so far very opposite feelings, and also look different – is so incredibly strange. Especially when it's going so fast, and it does. The bra sizes seem to be the ones that decrease the most. The rest of the body is still not caught up, but as said was – it more or less drains from me.
Which gets me to feel that my body has really longed for this. I think it's incredibly grateful to get rid of a lot of rubbish – and by that I do not mean just physical weight, but also such things as destructive notions of myself. Things that belong to the mental / mental / emotional part of this. All parts belong together as if together, and forms a chain reaction that puts a seven-fucking splash on the body.
But then. I can not express enough gratitude that all this is happening. To be challenged on those 31 the days of March and then decide to continue, is by far among the best that has ever happened to me. Starting to feel like a human being and no longer like a blob is worth more than I can say. The feeling is only mine, and it has nothing to do with how others have perceived me or perceive me now. But it is not a fun feeling to experience it as if you are outside society just because you have a big body.
I have more to say about this, but it may be in another post.