Weightloss and transformation story, because I'm really chuffed with myself today!
I used to be obese. Not one of those girls who looks heavy, or is overweight but carries it well. As in, definitely, visibly obese. One year I decided to turn my life around and worked hard over three months to drop the weight. After basically dieting and walking the weight off. I was finally slim again and happy about it. Even happier because in the process I was getting to know the wonderful man who would eventually become my husband, and he was very supportive of me.
He got me into weights. When I first started to lose the weight I figured I would be hot, after all, I was slim again and am blessed with a very curvy bone structure, so everything would sit just right... Or not. I had loose skin, stretch marks, poor posture and still some excess fat. I'm not about to go all "woe is me" here. I wasn't ugly, but I was nothing like what I could have been. I was sulking over the fact I essentially ruined what could have been an incredibly attractive body with literal kilos of pasta. But then he got me into weights.
He showed me that by gaining muscle I could add some shape to my thighs and bum. That I could stretch my skin out a bit and make it more taut with exercise and extra muscle. That a girly body is not necessarily all about being slim, that where your muscles lie show your feminine figure as much as your bones and fat do.
And I worked hard at it. Over the years I increased the weights again and again, I sculpted my waist inwards more than I thought was possible, right down to a 0.65 waist to hip ratio, with thanks to a diet that promotes a bit of hip fat as well. I worked on my bingo wings and stretch marks, and even my stomach, although it will never be firm again, is more solid and flat. My bum looks great and I'm actually pretty proud of my muscles, despite how unfeminine they sometimes look. My biggish arm muscles are far more attractive than the loose, stretchmarked skin was, by miles.
It's over five years since I first lost the weight, three and a bit years since I started powerlifting. Today for the first time in... ever, I think, Jon ranked my body as an 8/8 on his "subjective score" scale. In essence, I am not perfect, or objectively perfect, which is impossible, but I am attractive enough to him that he cannot find serious flaw with my body, that I am just the way he wants me to be. He said that if it were biologically possible he would happily have me look this way forever.
It took a lot of work to get here, but I feel quite a high level of satisfaction knowing it can be done. It takes so long. And it feels even longer whilst it's happening. It feels like no progress is being made at all. Days pass, numbers change and nothing seems different. And then it hits you. You've somehow managed it. You can go out there and work on yourself and do something that pleases you and get results. Sure, nobody can ever be truly perfect, and even subjective perfection is transient, be it in body, mind, work, family, everything comes to an end, or becomes the new normal, or just demands constant upkeep. But when you go our there and work on yourself, you can be amazed by the results.
It makes me wonder what else I could manage if I spend five years working at it. Where will my business go in two years? What will my writing and book portfolio look like in four years? How big and happy will my family be in five years?
Anyone else want to brag about a success or progress story? :D