I used to live here.

This is our first house. Our house that we loved and took care of. But one day we realized it really didn’t fit. It was way too big for us and our two little kitties. It was hard to take care of. It didn’t really fit our lifestyle. It wasn’t where we wanted to be.

So we moved. Back to the city. (As much as Lexington is a city.) To a house half the size. With a garage and no yard and an adorable little deck. Into a house that suits us.

Sometimes, though, I still miss that big old house. The way we could easily host large dinner parties. The huge bathroom with the garden tub. The wiffle ball games we had in the backyard. The giant Christmas tree we had in front of the window in the library.

I think the same things about my body sometimes.

I realize that my old body didn’t really suit me. That my old body didn’t allow me to have the lifestyle I wanted to have. It just didn’t fit.

But there are some things about it I miss a little. I always liked my proportions. My shape was a shape that didn’t cause me to think that my hips and butt are bigger than the rest. I never thought about what stuck out further – my boobs or my gut. I just was. I tried to buy things that weren’t too tight, throw on a cute accessory, and was generally pleased with myself.

As much as I don’t want to go back, I also don’t ever want to think negatively on my old body. I want to remember what I always loved about myself because I don’t want to dislike who I was (I’m still working on grace!). Even at my heaviest, I honestly loved the girls. And my calves. And the shape of my fingers. Yes, really.

I’ve been trying to branch out on the blogs I read. I’ve found several bloggers who weigh far less that what I do now – who weigh close to my maybe-eventual-goal weight – that are tearing themselves apart. That critique their pictures for double-chins and huge butts and thunder thighs. And I want to cry. Not out of jealousy but because they don’t see themselves the way I see them.

I’m working on my body image every day. I’m still taking the daily pictures to see my progress. But I also pick something out of my before picture that I love. The genuineness in my smile. The curve at my waist. I was just as much Krissie then as I am now.

I’m just in a house that suits me better.

I find myself critiquing my body more now than I did then. Isn’t that strange? I’m just trying to love the place I am today. And still work toward making my body a better house – a stronger, cleaner, more inviting, comfortable, self-accepting house.

And, as much as I might love my old house, I’m not going back. I’ve moved on.

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