My Favorite Jeans.

TW: weight. I bought a scale to step my body onto and I talk about it. *Chapter 67*

Since my last post, I’ve taken more walks. So many, in fact, that I was absolutely sure when I went to try on my favorite “too tight these days” jeans, they’d fit better than they have in the past two years.

Do you know how long you have to walk to get 10,000 steps in? AT LEAST AN HOUR AND A HALF. So imagine my shock and surprise when I got these jeans up past my knees and over my ass (barely) only to find out…

that I can’t even button them anymore.

MMMMMMKKKKKKKKK?!

I didn’t spiral.

I didn’t take them off, stand in front of my mirror and wallow.

I didn’t check my bank account, punish myself for something else I feel bad about.

I resisted getting out my tarot cards and attempting to improve my life by spell.

I did none of that. Ya know what I did? I ordered a fucking scale from Amazon…or like… I asked Alan to because I’m on a budget…

I know we’re not supposed to care how much we weigh. Literally everyone tells me NOT to worry about the number. NOT to count my calories. NOT to exercise too hard. NOT to get my heart racing. And I completely understand why. Why it’s detrimental to feel the need to fit into a certain type. Why don’t I just throw the too tight jeans out?? Buy bigger pants!!

Because you know why?

I don’t want to.

I… don’t… want… to.

I bought these jeans at a point in my life when I felt amazing. I wasn’t obsessing about eating or exercising but I was doing both well and regularly. They were two sizes bigger than any pair of jeans I’d ever bought and I did not care. I felt great. I looked great. They fit great. They were my new size. I loved them.

In the three years since I brought my favorite jeans home, I have been in a constant state of celebration. New love, new life, new job. If you’d like to know how I celebrate, I will tell you.

Happy Place, by Bonnie Lynn Felton, lynnfelton.com

I eat and drink every single thing I want.

I have had a great time and I have lacked discipline. But this very Substack, the Substack I started nearly three years ago when I threw out my back putting on my very favorite jeans, has cured my willy nilly-ness. I have hunkered down and brought you a new chapter every week for the past 67. I have learned structure and I know how to work towards a goal. And also, I love the act of both.

**she takes a deep breath, stares at her wall and blinks…**

The pendulum of my life has swung from one extreme to the other several times. Whose hasn’t? Especially if you’re into your 40s. You’ve tried all the shit. Listened to all the podcasts and consumed all the information. Deep down you know what works and yet still you wonder… should I?

Be vegan. Drink oat milk. Fast. Don’t fast. Wait. Eat red meat. Only grass fed. DO NOT DRINK OAT MILK. Drink real milk. But make sure it’s raw and from a goat. Eat butter, a lot of it. In fact, eat SO much fat. Avocados. Nuts. But like, be reasonable about it. Brown rice is better but don’t eat it because actually white rice is better. Eat only meat, vegetables are literally trying to kill you. If don’t want to lose your mind because your body is full of your old lady hormones make SURE to eat your body weight in protein everyday and make sure you do it within 30 minutes of waking up.

Can I compare my 41 year old self to my 34 year old self to my 25 year old self? Probably not. When I hear that doing too many HIIT workouts is bad for me, I’m thrilled to do zero. Who has time for 10,000 steps in a day? She asks before engaging in two hours of scrolling.

In my 20s, it never occurred to me that I was the youth. I’ve identified since birth as someone in my mid 90s but still, at mile 2.5 of my walk the other day, I looked up at the trees and thought, am I aging out? Is anyone even talking to me anymore? Do I really need to worry about protein and steps and not sweating so much that my cortisol starts seeping from my eyeballs?

Can everybody, including me, just shut up?

I feel mashed somewhere between selves. The 19 year old who is activated and excited and dreamy and the 65 year old who is only concerned with my dahlias and sourdough waffles. I want to get in the best shape of my life but does that even matter when my chest skin will still resemble that of a boneless chicken breast?

Here’s the cool, honest truth, I don’t really care all that much.

About the vanity factor at least. There’s no boundary in my mind ruthlessly convincing me that I have to fit into my “too tight these days jeans” before anything good happens to me. I got a boyfriend with an ass bigger than it had ever been in its whole entire life.

I just want to wear my favorite jeans and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.

I bought a scale because I’m longing for a new journey. One that has tangible results I can see. Numbers aren’t dangerous to me, in this case, they are helpful. It’s liberating to me to be at point in my life where I can look at my weight and think, “interesting” and not, “you awful piece of shit.”

It’s tough to hear your gentle intuition in a world with so much freaking noise. Challenging to determine what you “should” be doing when everyone tells you, with conviction, something different.

Across all the big decisions I’ve ever agonized over in my life (buying a scale… NOT one of those), I’ve always experienced the right choice as the one that creates the most stillness. A calm over my body and spirit. Relief. Through all the information, all the opinions and ideas and should’s and how’s, there is always a deep sense of knowing that I’m really good at ignoring.

I’m ready to listen now. Turn down the volume to the rest. Get an idea and do it before I have the chance to pick up my phone and get distracted. Trust that it is okay to follow what I know works best for me even if someone tells me it’s wrong.

I may never fit into my favorite jeans again and that’s okay. I’m still gonna step on that scale, know where I’m starting from and get to work. Because I freaking love those jeans and I freaking love a journey too.

WATCHING

Yeah so, I’ve become obsessed with a YouTuber named Caroline Winkler. I love her videos and her personality and her craftiness and her style. The algorithm is pushing her hard right now because she’s gained a ton of subscribers in the three days I’ve been binging her. As most of you know by now, I love YouTube the most, so falling in love with a new creator has felt really nostalgic and cozy and inspiring.

LISTENING

Walking meditations. I have yet to find one I really like so please send recommendations. I’ve been using Insight Timer to seek them out and the ones I’ve found are fine but I want something amazing.

USING

The GoodBudget App. I have decided to really and truly get my finances in order. I have a bunch of credit card debt I am paying off and I’m determined to get it over with as soon as possible. This app has been very helpful in keeping me accountable for every dollar I’ve spent. I heard a quote last week, “money is a fickle mistress, if you don’t pay her attention, she will leave you.” So, I’m paying her a LOT of attention these days.

A little later post today because I’m currently sick on my couch under the duvet I dragged in here from the bedroom… Alright fine, I’m not sick, I’m hungover. I drank all the wine last night and now I’m paying for it.

Thanks for your patience and for reading.

As always, I’m sending you my love and gratitude and support for getting out there and getting the job done, whatever that means to you. Talk to you next week.