Icing Melts

So, last night turned out to be a great time, despite my little anxiety fit from the last post. It wasn't the eating out persay that I was nervous about, I've gotten pretty adept at that, but it was just that I have a hangup about certain foods that will make me "look big", mainly from bloat or water retention, and try to avoid those for a day or two before a big date. It's not that I think a meal will make me put on fat overnight, but it's still major body anxiety about how various parts (stomach!) will look. Basically, I hate feeling like a walking belly, and my meal plan demands that I eat more than I am really physically comfortable with. Just wanted to explain all of that because I don't think I did a good job of articulating it in my last post. Now, a brief list of noteworthy thoughts/lessons I pulled from this.

Firstly, what I ate on Friday did NOT make me "look fat" last night. My system processed the nutrition and put it to good use and my body and I were still on speaking terms afterwards. This is a superficial reason for the night to be a success, but I won't deny that it was a factor.

Secondly, I had the panic over What to Wear. I went through an insane amount of outfits, and ended up going with, of course, the first one I'd tried on, albeit 45 minutes and some major stressage later. What was significant about this was that while ransacking my closet I found a pair of pants from that were stuffed way in the back because I had way un-grown (atonym for outgrown?) them when I lost weight. It had gotten to the point where they were falling off of me and not even a belt could keep them from looking ridiculous. Out of sheer desperation, I tried them on, expecting them to be too small because I *think* I am bigger than that size now (although I know women's sizes are cruelly arbitrary). I'm 23, I told myself, nothing wrong with outgrowing your pants from when you were 13, but try them just in case*. The verdict? They fit perfectly. And by fit I mean that they hugged my body and showed it off. For me, "fit" used to just mean pants hung but didn't fall off, allowing me to remain covered to a degree deemed sufficient by societal standards while looking like a human hanger. It took me a while to come to terms with the fact that yes, clothes are indeed actually supposed to touch your skin.

And Match specifically noticed and complimented them, too. So the real moral of this story is that filling in pants and being healthier not only feels but looks better than being thin and emaciated and at an artificially low clothing size. I seriously doubt the Date Pants would have gotten the same reaction XX pounds ago when I swam in them like a circus tent, not much sexy factor in that.

Thirdly, I'm aware the first two "lessons" are victories about external appearances. Which is why Match got MAJOR points for this final item. We were back at my place after dinner, doing one of our late-night talk sessions, and he decided to play the "Things I Like About Cammy" game. I hope this doesn't come off as egotistical, because he invented it, and it always makes me blush. The rules of the game are very simple: Match lists things that he likes about me. What it lacks in creativity, it makes up for in sweetness, no?

So anyway, that was very nice. ;) And it wasn't until after he left this morning (and I had some coffee to reignite my neurons) that a thought struck me: not one thing he listed had ANYTHING to do with appearance. Everything he mentioned was related to the internal Cammy, various products of my mind and heart, and nothing to do with the body those things ride around in. Granted, he does compliment me on looks-based things at random times too, and I know he is a human male and does appreciate the external (he did like them Date Pants, after all), but it struck a nice chord in me that the true substance that's appreciated, the actual things that he thinks of as "Cammy", are way, way more than skin deep.

I know that in theory, but I think we often forget about it when we're judging ourselves or predicting how the world sees us. Now I am NOT trying to portray this whole thing a case of being dependent on male validation. I just wanted to share that as an example because it did click on a few reminders in my head about how this is true in so many other cases as well. If I think of my friends, I never think about how they look, I think about their sense of humor, interests, passions, experience, etc, etc. The rest is icing, and everyone knows icing is the first thing to melt away under stress. And if you're constantly trying to avoid melting, when do you ever get to enjoy the sun shining on the real you?

*Disclaimer: I realize that wearing pants from when I was 13 shouldn't necessarily be a victory, please don't get me wrong, I worried this might be triggering for some. But that was the last time my weight was actually near the healthy zone. I am fully aware that in a year or maybe even a few months I won't be able to get into those pants, and I know there is nothing wrong with that.