176.4–.6 pound loss. I’m getting down to weights that feel weird for me to type, honestly. It’s been that long since I’ve seen them. Mentally, I still instinctively think of myself as being ‘around 190,’ which really isn’t true anymore! It will blow my mind when I get into the 160s. I was reading someone’s blog a few weeks ago and felt a mix of happiness and envy when I saw that she had reached the 170s. Then I realized that I had already reached the 170s, too! It was a funny moment.
I got in several tops in mediums from L.L. Bean, the winter clothes I mentioned previously. They all fit me well—except for a button-up that was too small in the boobs, a common problem for me. It’s awesome to look at a top and think, “I don’t think this is going to go on me; it’s too small,” and then have it fit nicely.
I told my husband, “Okay, I’m set for clothes now . . . well, for two more months, anyway, until I start shrinking out of my pants again.” The new tops should last me through at least size 10 (I’m in 12s now in tops). Actually, if I make it past a size 10 and still feel comfortable losing more, I’m going to throw a freaking party. Being a size 8 would be the smallest I’ve ever been. A 10 has been my mental goal, because that’s what I wore when I felt good about my body as a teenager.
I just talked to my husband, and he (a literalist) asked me what I meant when I say a 10 is the smallest I’ve ever been. I thought about it for a minute, and then I said, “That would be the smallest I’ve ever been proportional to the people in my age group. And it would be the smallest I’ve ever been in adult sizes.” So there you go–there’s a further explanation.