I Have Collar Bones (Or Self Discovery)

I was looking at myself in the mirror in the ladies' room at work the other day when I noticed something that I had not noticed before:  I have collar bones.  It's been a long time since I've noticed them.  Maybe never.  I think when you're the right size for you, you may not see individual parts of your body; you just appreciate your whole self.

Now that I'm shrinking back down to a more appropriate size for my height, I'm falling in love with body parts I'd never particularly thought about before.  Like collar bones.  And wrists.  I like my thin wrists.  I've lost a shoe size too.  That's also kind of exciting to me.

The fat doctor (she wasn't fat--that's just what I called the bariatric specialist I saw for a while many years ago) would be happy with my neck.  She was always fussing about how big my neck was and what that portended for my overall health.  She probably would be happy--as I recall, she wasn't a very happy person.  At any rate, I think I'm out of stroke danger now that I have a normal neck size.

Of course it's all just metaphor in the end.  Yes, I'm liking the way I look these days.  But, what's more important, I'm liking who I am now:  the new, better balanced chick.  There's more to go, of course.  About 25 more pounds.  That's going a little slower now as I near the end.  And then there are other unresolved resolutions to tackle . . . writing more thank you notes, keeping up with home paperwork, cleaning out one drawer a day until they're all done  . . .

It's a work in progress.