Before I moved to Las Vegas I was in the best shape of my life. I wasn’t eating astonishingly well (though not horribly), but I was working out consistently. I celebrated by purchasing two pairs of Lucky Brand jeans, my ultimate favorite brand. I’ve never been an expensive jeans person, but they are worth it.
Over the years after moving to the U.S., I watched as one by one the pairs stopped fitting. Instead of fretting, I folded and stored them in hopes that I would fit into them again at some point.
One day, back while I was still pregnant, I turned to my husband and said, “when I lose this baby weight and get to a comfortable weight, I’m going to treat myself to a pair of Lucky Brand Jeans.”
Post baby, as soon as I could, I began working out. I was fortunate to have naturally lost quite a bit of the baby weight within the first month, but I had an image in my head of what I should look like. Since then, I have pushed and pulled myself in so many different directions, determined – no, obsessed – with hitting my target weight; where I was before I moved out here.
For weeks now, I have been a mere 3.5 pounds away from that target weight, unable to move any further. At first I was stubbornly upset that I just couldn’t shed those last pounds, but then something clicked inside of me. I was playing with DJ on his play mat one morning just after breakfast and I caught a glance of myself in the full-length mirror, and you know what? I was happy with what I saw.
Who cares if I am still three and a half pounds from my pre-Vegas weight? Who cares if I’m not where I thought I should be? Bodies change and grow, and babies change your body.
I’m happy to say that for the first time in two and a half years, I am comfortable in my own skin. And you know what? I treated myself to a pair of Lucky Brand jeans this past weekend, those final three and a half pounds be damned.