|Size 10s! And I got to rip the tags off and put them in my closet! What is the world coming to!|
So my closest bottomed out at 12. And I'd been wearing those size 12 jeans for awhile and they'd been getting baggier and baggier as I lost weight.
And the baggier they got the more convinced my inner fat girl was that I must have accidentally pulled a pair of 14s out of the closet. And every time I'd double check the tag and see that they really were a 12. And every time my inner fat girl would be amazed all over again.
It was a fun game but in the last couple weeks the 12s got loose enough that they could go on and off without unbuttoning or unzipping them. And then accidentally dropping trow became an actual concern and it was time to shell out for a new pair.
So the crew and I hit the Old Navy. While my children climbed through the clothing racks trying to avoid the random objects my husband was chucking at them from across the aisle to pass the time, I picked up one of each style of jeans to try on and figure out which kind I liked.
While picking them up, even knowing how baggy those 12s were and that it was the sheer bagginess of them that had gotten me into the store, I almost picked up some 12s to take into the dressing room with me just in case! I know! That's just nutty. It totally is. But my brain just immediately went there thinking I couldn't possibly fit in 10s.
|When I came out of the dressing room, my husband asked if I took a picture while I was in there. Um, hell yeah. They're size 10. Did I mention that? Because my butt in a size 10 is totally photo worthy.|
Because that's what size I wear now. Because even though my inner fat girl still thinks I'm a size 12, I'm not. Wild.
Further proof that my hard work on this health kick is paying off. Tight fitting size 18s down to 10.
To hell with that scale not wanting to budge this week. I'm in a size 10. Holla!
Linking up with ktjweighingin!