Fat Revisted – March 2026 Edition

So, I’ve been moving…well, that is to say, moving my blog. I’ve been in the trenches moving my blog from the old platform over to this new WordPress site. It’s a glamourless, tedious process of copying and pasting, fixing broken formatting, and trying to make sure everything lands where it’s supposed to.

Thankfully, I haven’t been a terribly prolific writer over the last year. My output has been sporadic at best, so I only had a handful of posts to migrate. My original, very optimistic intent was to just grab the text, slap it into the new editor, and move right along to creating newer, shinier, and fresher posts from my current perspective. I didn’t want to look back. I wanted to stay in the now.

I tried very hard not to read them. I really did. I gave it the good old college try, the kind of effort you put into a juice cleanse on day three when someone walks by with a pizza. And yet… here we are. Because in the process of copying and pasting, there was, in fact, some reading going on.

And oh boy, there was definitely some cringing.

The Cringe is a Compass

It was particularly funny in that “I want to hide under a rock” kind of way to reread the original post titled FAT. If you haven’t read it yet, you should probably go check it out so you know exactly where my head was at. I’ll wait. Go ahead.

…Back? Okay.

So, yeah. That post. In the addendum of that original piece, I actually mentioned that I would probably find those comments cringey in the future. It’s like past-me was waving a little warning flag at future-me. Thankfully, I do find myself going, oh well, that’s a thought. I’ve realized that cringing at your past self is actually a bizarre form of progress. If I didn’t feel a little itchy reading those old thoughts, it would mean I’m still standing in the exact same spot.

Instead, I’ve moved. Not miles, maybe just a few inches, but the view is different now. So, here is the March 2026 update on my Being Fat journey. It’s less about the numbers on a scale and more about the noise in my head.

The Instagram Trap and the “Very Round” Reality

I’m currently laughing at myself because this month I started a new workout challenge. I found this person on Instagram (hahaha I mean, where else really), and she just clicked. She’s funny, she’s energetic, and she’s a little snarky. Just my cup of tea. She had a one-month challenge to get fit along with a meal plan, so I figured, why not? I’m in my second week now and, honestly, I’m feeling pretty good about it.

But the laughter comes from the fact that I am still struggling with how I view myself. My internal dialogue still defaults to the phrase: “I’m Very Round.” It’s my go-to descriptor. It’s the mental label I slap on myself before I even look in the mirror.

What has changed, however, is the flavor of that thought. I am much kinder about it now. In the past, “Very Round” was a condemnation. Now, it’s just an observation. It’s like looking at a ball and saying, “Yep, that’s a sphere.”

The Magic of the Thought Swap

I’ve been practicing thought swapping, and it has made a HUGE difference in how I talk to myself. I still make comments to myself about being the size of a cow. I know, I know, that’s not exactly “body positive” in the traditional sense. But oddly enough, the emotional weight of that comment is less harsh than it used to be. I know I’m not actually that large. I have this mental note to remind myself to be kinder, and I still practice the swaps, but the internal feeling around that kind of comment is much lighter.

In the past, the comments I made about my weight and size carried an internal loathing. It was a deep, oily disgust for what I looked like, which inevitably bled into a hatred for my entire being.

I have successfully changed that. I can actually look at myself in the mirror now, really look, and while I still think, “Yeah, still round,” I can genuinely say to my body, “Hey, thank you for working really well and letting me do the things I want to do.”

Is it a work in progress? Absolutely. I definitely have room to improve the inner dialogue of the critic in my brain. But the fact that I can say nice things to my body and actually mean them? That’s huge. Honestly, it’s life-changing. I mean let’s not get too crazy here because I still don’t like to go clothes shopping (the lighting in fitting rooms is truly a crime against humanity), but it means I can feel good about simply being in my skin. And that’s a win I’ll take any day.

When the Siren Call of the Donut Fades

My eating habits are significantly better now, too. When I was moving the posts, I laughed at my old comment in the addendum about finding salmon salad a little bit “sad.” I remember that feeling so clearly, the feeling that healthy food was a punishment for being “bad.”

I noted in my post about The Donut Didn’t Win that something shifted. Food choices that I thought were inconceivable even a year ago are now just… normal. They don’t register as important or dramatic. They’re just what I eat.

It’s cool, too, because it’s only a couple of months after I first noticed the siren call of the donut was getting quieter. Now, I’m way less into the cakes and donuts now. I don’t have to white-knuckle my way past the bakery. I even found that a couple of pieces of a Hu Dark Chocolate with Salt candy bar satisfies my dessert cravings perfectly. Shockingly, I’ve gone days without feeling like I needed a “sweet little something-something” after a meal.

If you told the Me of 2024 that, I would have called you deranged and probably hit you with a cruller.

The Slow, Messy Mechanics of Change

None of this happened overnight. It’s come from slow, small changes. It’s been about experimenting with different things to find options I actually enjoy putting in my face, rather than forcing myself to eat kale until I cry (which honestly happens even after one bite so there’s that).

I’ve made healthier food choices readily available, like pre-chopped snacky veggies in the fridge. If it’s already chopped, I’ll eat it. If it’s a whole bell pepper staring at me from the crisper drawer, it’s basically a decorative object until it turns into a mushy hazardous swamp monster that everyone tries to ignore rather than try to scoop into the trash.

It’s also helped immensely that Paul and I are in this together. We’ve worked out a system where if we order takeout, it’s “cleaner” food. We’re both making similar changes to our diets, so there’s no one in the house sabotaging the other with a surprise pizza at 10 PM…mostly. I’ve even started cooking again. A few years ago, I basically stopped because it felt like too much work, too much cleanup, too much everything. But now? It’s clearly the easiest way to eat healthier and cleaner.

The Muumuu Phase is Over

I’m still heavier than I would like to be. That’s just the raw truth. But I’m okay with slow changes. I’m okay with gradually getting back in shape through workouts and walking. I know it took me a long time to get into this physical state, so it’s probably going to take a while to get to where I want to be in terms of my strength goals.

Ideally, along the way, I’ll get a little leaner and fit into cuter clothes. I’d love to shop without having a total meltdown in the dressing room because I have to keep sizing up. There was a point in time where I would have gladly opted for a muumuu just to avoid the trauma of zippers and denim.

But I’m okay. I can see myself in the mirror without having that internal dialogue of “OMG, why does every bathroom have to have such big mirrors?” or the “No one wants to see that” comment I used to say to myself daily.

I am definitely much kinder now.

Enough is a Good Place to Be

I’m quite happy with my progress on this. It isn’t a “before and after” photo where I’ve suddenly dropped 50 pounds and found enlightenment. It’s messier than that. It’s a digital migration, a few pre-chopped carrots, and a lot less self-loathing.

At some point, I hope I can say I don’t think I’m fat anymore. With consistent workouts and better food choices, I think I’ll get there. But for now, I’m okay. I’m living in the skin I have, and I’m treating it with a little more respect.

And for today, that’s enough.

I’m finally making friends with my emotional closet monsters, making conscious choices about who I want to be, and having a whale of a time doing it.

Awkwardly Onward! Rowr.