You Win Some, You Lose Some

Reposting (and rephrasing), because I accidentally deleted the last one while editing a typo. That's what happens when you place your mouse which controls the Macbook beside the trackpad that controls the Mac, and your mother who is visiting Japan for a week really, really, really wants to watch her telenovelas and you have been awake since five in the morning (having four real adults in the house means being all showered and breakfast-ed by the time my first alarm of twenty goes off).

So anyway, the point is: (1) I lost weight, and (2) I lost the minimalist battle (but not the war). The latter sort of because of the former but not entirely so.

2015 was when I hit my peak weight, and I felt and looked like a fucking mascot. When I would meet friends I haven't seen in a while, they'd always tell me I look "different". When you gain a few pounds people don't usually hesitate to tell you so (it's practically the traditional Pinoy greeting, isn't it?), but when it's a lot, then it becomes awkward. Hence, "different".

I was fine with it at first; full-fat food, after all, is glorious. But when I started getting depressed whenever I look in the mirror and felt myself cringing when looking at my photos, I knew it was time to make some changes.

For a week (and only a week - it's tedious work), I counted calories to figure out how much I am overeating (answer: a lot). From there it was all a matter of making better choices. Actually no, scratch that. I just stopped making really bad choices. Like giant cup ramen (500 kcal - that's two quarter pounders!). Or an entire bag of Lay's (1200 kcal, or my entire daily allowance). So essentially what I'm saying is I just started eating like a normal human person. Also, no more extra rice. It's sad but there is more rice to be had tomorrow, and there is no need to attempt to inhale all I could possibly can in one meal.

Admittedly the progress was slow, but it was at least steady. I am still nowhere near the level of skinny-ness I would like to achieve, but at least I can look at myself in the mirror with less and less horror each day. And when I board the train, I am no longer afraid that people might give up their seats for me because they think I'm pregnant.

Spot the difference

To be honest I feel like the weight loss is noticeable to no one but me (and Abe too, but that's because he has to :p), but at least the weighing scale and my pants agree. I went down two sizes, and that was when the shopping fast was broken, so to speak. I used to have a section at the back of my closet reserved for clothes I will wear "when I finally lose ten pounds", but I threw them all out when I started going "minimalist". And now I have to go and buy the exact same (-sized) clothes. The irony of it all is not lost on me.

Once I started shopping I found myself unable to resume the fast. "But I also need new tops, because it's summer." "But my favorite dresses are now too loose and must be replaced." "But I want new lipstick."

And so here we are. Sometimes I ask myself if maybe, maybe this isn't for me. Maybe I should just start accepting the fact that I am a hoarder and just, you know, buy more storage. But last week I pulled out my makeup drawer, feeling totally guilty because of the aforementioned new lipstick. But as I started pulling items out in an attempt to edit, I realized I have, despite the setbacks, managed to significantly whittle down my collection, and at no point did I ever feel like I did not have enough. So I guess I've been making progress after all. ^^

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