" Now you've found love, it's shining through"

I've had an epiphany about how it truly does not matter what size I am and how much I weight.

Last night I mentioned to Nathan how I decided to give my "anorexic pants" to my older sister, who is somehow naturally very thin.  At first I never wanted to give her my old pants because I didn't want to see her wearing them and get upset that they didn't fit me anymore.  But then I was cleaning my closet a couple of weeks ago, throwing stuff out and making a donation pile.  I wanted to go through everything and ask myself "do I want to take then when I move out?"  and if I wouldn't take it with me, I threw it out or put it in the donate pile.

I tried on a lot of my old clothes.  Some of my old shirts are short!  I don't understand how they shrunk length wise.  Did I grow a couple of inches?  All of the short shirts went into the donate pile.  The other shirts I had to decide- Do they currently fit, do they have the potential to fit again, will they most likely never fit again, or do I even like the style anymore?  I actually felt okay by all of this.  Some old shirts fit again (they probably would have "fit" before but I don't like tight shirts so I had put them away in favor of sweatshirts).  I felt calm knowing that I've finally lost weight in a healthy way, and so these other shirts DO have the potential to fit.  I made a deal with myself.  When I get to my "goal weight" (actually, goal size- since I weigh more than I used to before my really bad relapse due to muscle-- so my goal is actually my pre-really-bad-relapse size, and Lisa is okay with this) if they don't fit then, I will donate them and not even flirt with idea of making them be able to fit again..
It was that day I decided to offer my old pants to my sister.  I emailed her and explained how I felt ready and okay about this and that she was welcome to try them on and have them.  She said she'd do that, and asked me if I was really sure about this.  I told her I was.

So last night I told Nathan I decided to give her the pants.  He knew before how I really didn't want to see her in them.  So he was surprised I offered them to her.  But I told him I was at peace about it.  That my body was finally responding to my efforts and starting to get smaller, so I finally have hope and feel better about the potential to get smaller.  I told him I know I'll most likely never get back to that size- in a healthy way- and how I know I can't go back to that size in an unhealthy way.  He asked how much my body had responded and I said "well, I've already lost 15 pounds".  He looked shocked and asked "since when?" I said "my birthday (early september), but 10 since January.  He asked, "does it make a bad fiance since I never even noticed?  you've always looked perfect to me".  I told him it was fine he didn't.  I mentioned how the pants I was wearing used to not fit, along with the jeans I was wearing the day before.  he said, "I have noticed a gradual shift of new (old) clothes, I just didn't put it together".

You know- I'm glad he didn't notice.  Because it's further proof that my size does not matter.  Especially to him.  And he's all I care about.  I am loved no matter what size I am.

I still have my goal in mind.  And I know I'm almost there.
He asked me once, "when you get to your "goal", are you sure it will be enough?  are you going to want to keep going and not stop there?"
And I told him no.  That I feel okay to stop there.  That I don't need to look like a pre-teen with zero curves, or be extra bony (which he was happy to hear because he likes my curves-- which used to freak me out, but now I'm okay with it).  I told him that I like feeling strong, and having muscle. I can't be that way if I let myself get sick again.

I love Nathan.  He makes me feel so comfortable.  Even at the beginning when we just started hanging out.  I'd go to his house, or he'd come to mine, and all of a sudden, when we walked through the door, all of my insecurities went away.  I forgot that i was having a "fat day".  It all left my mind and I felt so comfortable and happy to just be around him. 
He reassures me there's no need to lose weight, but he understands if I still think there is.  Just as long as I don't keep going once I get to the size that Lisa and I both agreed on, he's okay with whatever I decide to do.  But that he thinks I'm weird for thinking I need to change.  Maybe it's not so much a "need" as a "want".
I feel like if I can get back to my pre-relapse weight/size, then it'll be like I've come around full circle.  I lost the weight, I gained it and then some, and then if I can finally just go back to where I was, I can stop being reminded of it, and I can move on.


(title: lyrics to "come close" by Saosin)