My thrift fits have been wild good. I’m about to start compiling them or something because a girl is out here and pairing some cute shit. The brown jacket I got from my first thrift works on all my outfits and I’m just… You go self. You rock that shit. I think there’s been a few times where people are like, girl what are you wearing, but the amount of fucks I give is so little as long as I’m feeling cool. Life is too short to care.
So today I was clocked out of work and ready to go and buy some Ono. On my way to the place I thought, “Is it worth it? Is this purchase going to be worth breaking a promise to myself?” I told my friends I wouldn’t spend money on the weekdays so I couldn’t hang with them, but I’m gonna go and buy this shit and go home and just be in my room? I turned my car around and went to the library, where parking was a bitch because all the kiddies are back in school.
I returned Emma and picked up a random book to look at for the 10 minutes I was allowed to park. The page I flipped to introduced a character whose mom had died from diabetes. The character knew that “fatness” was a sign of wealth and happiness for her mom, but she was careful with her diet now because she didn’t want her kids to go through the same pain she had, when she watched her mom die an early and hard death.
I’ve been trying to put myself on spiritual autopilot, just trusting my energy to bring me to the right things, so while it might’ve been pure coincidence for me to pick up a book and flip to a page that reflected my life in such a way, I felt it was meant for me.
I’m currently 114 pounds. People I meet these days don’t know I used to weigh 160 pounds in high school, 140 pounds at the end of college, and have lost 30 pounds in the past year. A guy points to me and says, “You’re skinny, you can eat mayo, but I can’t!” I reply, “It took a lot of hard work to get to this point.” Cute coworkers invite me to hang because now I’m as cute as them and dumb coworkers invite me out to hang because now I’m skinny enough for them to be interested.
I didn’t lose weight for anyone, but myself. I learned, the hard way, not to take things for granted – least of all my body. When I first gained weight in high school, it was because my grandma went to Vietnam for the summer and I thought it’d be okay to comfort eat Wendy’s every single day. I was too unaware to see I was coping in an unhealthy manner. What were stretch marks? And then kids in my school thought I was pregnant. I had online friends, but very few real life friends. I wore the same things every day. My social life was nonexistent.
Amongst other things, my grandma lost the battle to food. She couldn’t sacrifice the joy of eating what she wanted for the joy of living a healthier life and it was a hard thing to watch. Unlike animals, humans can eat just to eat. We enjoy it. We commemorate it. We celebrate it. And sometimes we can’t control our hunger. We lose out to all the cravings because it’s easier and more enjoyable to give in all the time. Self-discipline is hard, but fuck. You watch a loved one die from diabetes and you either learn or you don’t.
I’m in the process of breaking my bad habits in favor of good ones. Most of my habits, both good and bad, were formed around my grandma. Without her, I’m relearning so much. I see the progress every time I look in a mirror or when I buy a skirt size 4 and it fits or when I rock a tiny nylon shirt with the word “goddess” across the chest and actually feel like one. I’m extra as fuck about my outfits now. Wanna see?
A STOR¥ BY ? 