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Wednesday, September 23, 2009

I just want to make something perfectly clear......

I am not a number......

Yeah, yeah, I know....I've got references to numbers all over my blog. Yesterday I was squealing with delight over the size of my pants (8 or 10) and everyday, right up there at the top of my blog, I advertise how much weight I lost (100) and yep, I am sure I've made it perfectly clear how old I am (50)!

Who is Judi? I am a 50 year old woman who lost 100 pounds and wears a size 8 or 10 pants. And I've told you that over and over and over again.

Ad nauseam I'm sure.

And now here I sit telling you that I am not a number.

Got you scratching your head...don't I?
Let's face it.....I'm nothing if I'm not a dichotomy.

As we all are, I suspect.

We don't want to be judged by the size of our paycheck.

Yet, how much we make matters to us.

We don't want the value of our homes to be a reflection of ourselves.

But, we do care about the places where we live.

We don't want our bank accounts to define us.

Yet, we know it dictates how we live.


Listen, I was never good at numbers. As I toiled over math homework during my school days, I would wonder if I would ever use math in real life. I had myself convinced that I would never need it. Ever. Ever. It's what we tell ourselves when we want to console ourselves as we struggle. No, I will never need to know how to add and subtract! But, alas, I was wrong. It turns out that yes I did need to know how to add and subtract and yes I did need some math skills. And, interestingly enough--numbers are a part of my life. A huge part of it.....amazingly. One day I'm embracing the numbers and other days I'm trying very hard to ignore them. As in--yes I love that pants size but fuck I hate the balance in my checking account. A love-hate relationship at it's finest.

It's the very same relationship I have had with the numbers on the scale over the years and the numbers printed on the labels of my pants. When I was obese--I hated them. When I lost weight--I loved them.
Shit I hate 200+ pounds.

Size 22 sucks.

Isn't being under 140 wonderful?

Size 10 rocks.

And, here I am now---having lost weight ( did I mention that I lost 100 pounds?) and having achieved a pants size (did I mention size 8 and 10?) I am deliriously happy about. And yet I'm telling you that I am not a number? Yes, I am. That's what I am telling you.
Because I figure if I tell you then it will be true.








2 comments:

The Universe said...

When you don't know what to do next, Judi, sometimes it's because you've already done more than you give yourself credit for.

Hey, you don't want to make that mistake again, huh?
You rock -
The Universe

Gen said...

You have worked hard enough that you deserve to OWN those numbers. You are not a number, but still.

Words and letters give us easy labels and identities too. M or S instead of XL/XXXL? "Overweight" or "Healthy Weight" vs. "Morbidly Obese"? "Plus Size" vs. "Regular" etc.

Hey, in real life you don't go around advertising your size and weight, right? The blogosphere is different, a free pass to indulge in number obsessions....No need to apologize! You deserve to blow your horn at every opportunity!