I love this! The strange thing is, it can be applicable to any situation. For me it was a mental shift, from being too agreeable and finding my voice and learning to do things on my terms. I felt like I lived my life being performative and now I vow to be confident and take control of. Although the mirror reflects the same person physically, I don’t recognize the strength and confidence of the woman in the reflection. Let’s see this journey through each stage. Cheers 🥂🩷
Exactly, the physical mirror stays the same while something fundamental shifts underneath. That gap between the reflection and the person you’re becoming is real and it deserves to be named.
Performative is such a precise word for it. Living for the audience instead of yourself. And then one day deciding the performance is over. Not dramatically, just quietly and completely.
This absolutely is something so much deeper than weight loss. An identity shift. A refusal to be defined by one single thing. I’ve spent way too much of my adult years absolutely in my head about how I looked and how much I weighed. It spiraled into an eating disorder.
I’m recovering and healthy, and it’s been so interesting to me what else I’m finally capable of now that food, calories, binging, and purging aren’t taking up all of my mental real estate.
I have not been this weight since I was 9 years old. My body still feels 400 lbs. Not physically, but emotionally and mentally.
I don't recognize myself in reflections, whether mirrors or store windows.
I still tense up walking into somewhere I have to sit in a chair. Arms? Sturdiness? Will I be able to get out without help?
Toilets freak me out, too. I have never been in stalls for "normal"-sized people. Those toilets are so low! I still drop down on them hard. When I fit in the bathroom on a plane, I had another person take a picture of me standing in there with my arms *not* touching the sides. I used to wear Depends when I flew because I couldn't have fit in a plane bathroom no matter the emergency.
I turn sideways for turnstiles.
When people are nice to me... smile, open doors for me, talk to me out of the blue... I wince. Some because I'm confused why they are talking to me. Then I remember I look like a "normal" person now and sigh.
When people who knew me fat tell me how great I look now, my mind squints and glares at them: What were you thinking when I was fatFatFAT?!? "You look like shit!" That's what my mind hears.
I'm 4 years in, in remission from obesity ("maintenance") for over a year now. I tell people it will take me another 50 years to get used to this body. Since I'm 65 now, I doubt that's going to happen.
Mostly I write my Morning Pages to write the sad and weird things. I write here about it a lot.
This is one of the most honest things I’ve read about life after major weight loss. Thank you for writing it all out.
The turnstiles. The chairs. The plane bathroom picture. These aren’t quirks — they’re the footprint of a life lived in a much larger body, and that doesn’t just disappear when the weight does.
What you’re living is real, and it has a name: the psychological transition that nobody is prepared for. The body changes first. The mind takes years — sometimes decades — to follow. At 4 years in, you are still so early in that process, even if it doesn’t feel like it. I’m glad you’re writing. 🤍
I love this! The strange thing is, it can be applicable to any situation. For me it was a mental shift, from being too agreeable and finding my voice and learning to do things on my terms. I felt like I lived my life being performative and now I vow to be confident and take control of. Although the mirror reflects the same person physically, I don’t recognize the strength and confidence of the woman in the reflection. Let’s see this journey through each stage. Cheers 🥂🩷
Exactly, the physical mirror stays the same while something fundamental shifts underneath. That gap between the reflection and the person you’re becoming is real and it deserves to be named.
Performative is such a precise word for it. Living for the audience instead of yourself. And then one day deciding the performance is over. Not dramatically, just quietly and completely.
To the journey…all of it. 🤍
This absolutely is something so much deeper than weight loss. An identity shift. A refusal to be defined by one single thing. I’ve spent way too much of my adult years absolutely in my head about how I looked and how much I weighed. It spiraled into an eating disorder.
I’m recovering and healthy, and it’s been so interesting to me what else I’m finally capable of now that food, calories, binging, and purging aren’t taking up all of my mental real estate.
The mental real estate point stopped me cold. What becomes possible when that space finally opens up. So glad you’re here and so glad you’re well.
I know this! I call it Mind-Body Integration Syndrome. I like Identity Lag. I will write more when home on computer. Beautiful piece!!
Different names, same truth — I love that. Can’t wait to hear more.
I have not been this weight since I was 9 years old. My body still feels 400 lbs. Not physically, but emotionally and mentally.
I don't recognize myself in reflections, whether mirrors or store windows.
I still tense up walking into somewhere I have to sit in a chair. Arms? Sturdiness? Will I be able to get out without help?
Toilets freak me out, too. I have never been in stalls for "normal"-sized people. Those toilets are so low! I still drop down on them hard. When I fit in the bathroom on a plane, I had another person take a picture of me standing in there with my arms *not* touching the sides. I used to wear Depends when I flew because I couldn't have fit in a plane bathroom no matter the emergency.
I turn sideways for turnstiles.
When people are nice to me... smile, open doors for me, talk to me out of the blue... I wince. Some because I'm confused why they are talking to me. Then I remember I look like a "normal" person now and sigh.
When people who knew me fat tell me how great I look now, my mind squints and glares at them: What were you thinking when I was fatFatFAT?!? "You look like shit!" That's what my mind hears.
I'm 4 years in, in remission from obesity ("maintenance") for over a year now. I tell people it will take me another 50 years to get used to this body. Since I'm 65 now, I doubt that's going to happen.
Mostly I write my Morning Pages to write the sad and weird things. I write here about it a lot.
So wonderful to know I'm not alone. Thank you.
*heavy sigh*
This is one of the most honest things I’ve read about life after major weight loss. Thank you for writing it all out.
The turnstiles. The chairs. The plane bathroom picture. These aren’t quirks — they’re the footprint of a life lived in a much larger body, and that doesn’t just disappear when the weight does.
What you’re living is real, and it has a name: the psychological transition that nobody is prepared for. The body changes first. The mind takes years — sometimes decades — to follow. At 4 years in, you are still so early in that process, even if it doesn’t feel like it. I’m glad you’re writing. 🤍
Thank you so much. And 4 years is a blip in time compared to the 50+ years of super-obesity before.
It remains weird all the time!