I spent the thinnest years of my life believing I was a fat cow.

Yep, same here. I was thin enough that my parents routinely would invite me home for dinner so they could make sure I was eating. Friends who have seen the photos from that era are all VERY EMPHATIC that I should never be that weight again.

I'm 5'4", 166-7(ish)lbs, and somewhere between a size 12 and 14. I'd like to get down to 160, but if I don't, I won't beat myself up agout it. Do the Body Image Demons still stage surprise performances of their greatest hits? Of course they do. But I'm getting better at ignoring them.

Twisted as it is, I'm often really glad I've NEVER been thin. So SHE (that I-was-so-thin-back-at-such-and-such chick) doesn't haunt me. I'm about the same size I was in high school. I did have a few years right after high school that I was below 200 lbs. (at barely 5'3"), and I wouldn't mind going back. But I've never been thin, so I have no idea what I'm missing, and I think I'm better off.

I spent the thinnest years of my life believing I was a fat cow.

Me too!

Completely ridiculous, isn't it?

I don't beat myself up about it, but I do miss the simplicity of being 5'8", size 8, and size 8 shoes.

And how much of that "believing I was a fat cow" was from outside sources? My mother put me on a diet - cottage cheese and salads - when I was 12, and constantly harped on how fat I was. At the time I was 5'6" and 128. I recently figured out that it wasn't the flesh she object to as much as the frame - I'm tall (I eventually hit 5'9"), wide shoulders, heavy bones; there is no way I'd ever hit the willowy, fragile look that she felt was appropriate. So ... I've shrunk a bit with age and I'm currently about 210. I'd like to weigh less, but I'm not going to punish myself to achieve some nebulous goal. I'm healthy. I've made the trade-off of not abusing my body to try to achieve some ideal.

and, may I suggest that for those of you with "Things to do when I've lost X pounds" cross out the last five words and start on that list.

I spent the thinnest years of my life believing I was a fat cow.

I don't think I thought I was a cow, but I certainly didn't appreciate how thin I was. Not that I was ever thin , but not overweight. I was hung up on the numbers. I'm 5'10 with muscles and boobs (great boobs, I may add ;), I'm never going to be a single digit size. I'm okay with that.

great boobs, I may add

Well now, that's an wee bit of an understatement, isn't it?

Check out this adorable baby hat and it's called "Miss Dashwood".

I don't think I thought I was a cow, but I certainly didn't appreciate how thin I was. Not that I was ever thin , but not overweight.

This. The times I've really felt comfortable with my body have been few and far between, but don't really correlate very well with my swings up and down the scale.

But what does get me is the fucking demoralizing hassle it is to be overweight. To need an outfit or a dress or something and have to pick through the racks and then try on 15 things before one looks remotely workable. My dream is to be able to look at clothes in a store and be able to grab anything I think looks cute with some reasonable expectation that it will fit and look okay. The constant "can't do that shape/fabric/color, oops, nice bulges, ouch too tight, whoops, boob gap, holy cow that does cling in the wrong places" every time you go shopping is where I really start to get into a "you big fat cow" place.

Apparently, Mr. Peabody thought it couldn't really be for him, because he'd take a bite and then head for the den to eat it with that purposeful trot that screams "I'm stealing something but I'm going to look like I'm busy and no one will notice."

OMG that walk is one of my favorite things in the world, and it is so so obvious. Hysterical.

But what does get me is the fucking demoralizing hassle it is to be overweight. To need an outfit or a dress or something and have to pick through the racks and then try on 15 things before one looks remotely workable. My dream is to be able to look at clothes in a store and be able to grab anything I think looks cute with some reasonable expectation that it will fit and look okay. The constant "can't do that shape/fabric/color, oops, nice bulges, ouch too tight, whoops, boob gap, holy cow that does cling in the wrong places" every time you go shopping is where I really start to get into a "you big fat cow" place.

Oh, yes.

I mean, stress and a lack of exercise have bumped me back up into a 12/14 from an 8/10 over the last year (sigh), and the shopping part practically brings me to tears.

As an 8/10, BTW, I was around 150-155lbs. I stopped weighing myself daily, started eating gobs of sugar to deal with various issues in the short term, moved to an office that wasn't a built-in exercise routine, and BOOM, back went the weight. So I'm currently in a state of very frustrated with myself.