Exhale. What gets measured gets managed. Besides the shocking news of being in perimenopause at age 44, my youngest son going to school full time, my shoulder being grumpy because of a swollen bursa, and unexpectedly gaining 4 kg over the three months of winter in Tasmania, I decided today would be a great day to weigh and measure myself. I ordered some chinos that are Australian size 14 and they fit but this high rise style sits right at my middle which happens to be my bulkiest area! I already have more of a “short waist” naturally, and even when I don’t have as much weight on I still don’t have an hourglass figure, more even really all around, which means adding a belt always makes my outfit and me look better because it creates more of a curve and instant styling.
As of today 17 Septemeber 2024 I weigh 73.5kg. My natural waist, where it curves in is 92cm; my waist is 102 cm; my hips 107 cm. Thankfully my height still stays the same at 173cm, but the looks of these other numbers are enough to really give me pause. Before I fell pregnant with my last baby I weighed 63 kg. I usually fluxuate during the month anyway by a kilo or two, but post babies have been usually around 68-69kg, which was already at the limit of what I was comfortable with. Let me also make this very clear that I love my body. My body works well, it’s strong, and I am happy with what I have for the most part. I wrote that last bit and then thought of this morning before I put a bra on how I had to readjust my kiddos when we cuddled so my boobs weren’t being squished because they were in a free fall.
I loved having large boobs when I was younger, I truly did. I was a 34D most of the time and then for a while shifted to a 34DD, but now am a 36C and honestly that’s still a bit loose. Gravity has been taking it’s toll and it’s a hard pill to swallow when I’ve been used to things looking and feeling a certain way and they change. I get that change is very much a part of life, and truly the only constant in life, and yet, always being okay with what is takes practice, consistent practice.
This doesn’t really have to do with my measurements but it does remind me about being in the present. The thing is that when I do that comparison, when I think about the wonderfully perky boobs I used to have that were up to my chin, then I look at these 44 year old boobs that have breastfed babies and lived a lot of life, it’s hard not to compare. However, that saying that comparison is the thief of joy is totally true, even when I’m comparing with myself. So if I just look at where I am now and be thankful that I have what I have and honour and cherish my boobs, my skin, my estrogen, as it is right now, then maybe I can be present enough to just carry on and enjoy it all.
With that said, all the enjoying what I have, I also know that I feel better and have more energy when I’m not carrying as much weight as I am now. My mental health is impacted with it as well. I think it’s all tied together, like I’m carrying around extra stuff that needs to go but it’s helped me along and served me well but it’s time to thank it for it’s service and let it go. More movement will mean that everything gets cleared away, the thoughts, the extra layers, and a healthier mind and body will continue to emerge. I have faith in this.