I went back to the store today and I bought that dress.

Yes, I did.

I bought the one that I couldn’t get on yesterday. The one that I loved but made me feel fat, unattractive, and bloaty when I couldn’t do up the zipper. It was still there, and a little thrill went through me. I was buying myself a dress. A pretty, slinky, silky, flowery dress. I have not done that in a very long time. I think the last dress I bought was for my friend’s wedding. In 2010. It was a size 20, black, and I felt like a heifer in it.

My new floaty summery pink, green, and white dress is going to hang up in my room and be a motivator to keep going on this crazy emotional roller coaster ride of a journey back to being healthy, fit, and happy with myself. It will hang alongside my sparkly red tube dress and my wicked orange Nike “Run Like a Girl” tech tee that doesn’t quite fit yet.

I was thinking I might wear it for Army Run.

The tee, not the dress. Come on, people….

In other news, I also bought a blouse today. It was an impulse purchase, and completely 360° from my current fashion idea. (ie: not a t-shirt). It is pretty, pink, gauzy, and ruffly. It has a waist gather. A %$#@ waist gather, which, on an apple-shaped body, is not normally a good thing. When I tried it on, it looked ok, and sat right on my hips where its supposed to. But that was not the best part.

It was not a 2XL. It was not even an XL.

It was a medium. As in M. As in NOT HUGE.

This pendulum of emotions the past couple of days has been exhausting. We are told not to sweat the small stuff, and I forget that all the time. But today, the small stuff, like fitting into a smaller size, was HUGE!


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