So, my body changes shape like nobody's business. I've come to realize that even though I can always make healthier choices (and I'm always trying to) a huge part of this fluctuation is beyond what I can control. And I'm okay with that. I'd rather look good as opposed to bloaty, but I think I'm grown up enough to be able to not let my physical appearance bear any weight (ha) on my self-esteem.
My real issue? Clothing. Here's just some perspective. Towards the end of my mission (the picture above on the right) I couldn't find a belt tight enough to keep my pants on. My clothes all fit like parachutes but I was okay with it because I knew I would be going home soon and would be throwing most of them away because they were so worn out. When I went back to Tokyo in November, I went shopping with my Grandma and was truly unaware of what my pant size was. Obviously, I was going to need a new wardrobe in that I wasn't wearing white shirts and slacks everyday anymore. I came home with two pairs of jeans at waist size 29.
I haven't really bought pants since then until last week. I picked up a pair of shorts and decided to be generous with myself. I bought them in a 32 waist, my size before I left on my mission. I was pretty sure I had gained weight and needed to compensate for that (I'm guessing my jeans have kind of stretched with me because I can still fit into them comfortably). Long story short: I haven't worn them. 5 inches in 9 months ya'll. But just you wait, I bet in a month or so I'll be able to slap those things on no problem.
This didn't really have a punchline. Just some monologue that's been happening as I've been cleaning out and organizing some images on my computer. Move along.