Let me start this rant by saying that while I do have a normal amount of insecurity regarding my body, it’s never really caused me to have low self esteem. I like my body. It’s curvy and a little soft, but I’ve learned to rock it like a badass. It seems to reflect the amount of love and care I give it. I can tell when I do more cardio or eat right or drink more water just by looking at it. I have noticed that when I do begin lifting I gain a just a little more weight. I know this is muscle. I KNOW IT. My background is in health sciences and basically I’m not a stupid.
Earlier this year I got a trainer. I’ve stressed to him the superficial and functional reasons why I wanted a trainer. He made it a point to tell me I can’t just be a cardio bunny and expect results. Muscles burn more calories. I assured him I hate cardio and I already knew that. Again, I’m not a stupid and I’m not that girl that stays away from muscle. At the very beginning of this I was 125. And I know this number isn’t the most important but in the back of my head I did want to reach 115. There’s no reason other than to say I’m 115.
Yesterday I weighed myself for the first time in awhile and I am a whopping 130. 1-fucking-30. I wanted to crawl into a ball and die, cursing my trainer in my head. Hell, I still want to crawl into a ball and die. According to my BMI, I’m overweight. I’m an overweight therapist. That’s not okay.
And what’s stupid is… I KNOW IT’S MUSCLE. I know it to the bone that I did not gain 5 pounds of fat. I eat healthier on a regular basis. I’ve improved my back squat from 99lbs to 164! I have a butt and back muscle that were not there when I was 26 yo. I am the “skinniest” I’ve been in 10 years. Even with all of this, all the progress, the number on the scale is bumming me the fuck out and it feels like a major setback. I may or may not have turned to tumblr looking for random people who don’t know me from atom for encouragement or I just need to type.
Oh, Life. Stop.