#bmi

you typed in your height. you typed in your weight. you hit calculate. and for a second your whole worth felt like it was hanging on whatever popped up on that screen.

breathe.

BMI is a clue, not a confession. it can't see your strength, your muscle, your story, the years you've been trying. it's just a starting point, one tiny piece of a much bigger picture of you.

so if the number surprised you today, you don't owe it your shame. you can be curious instead of crushed. you can learn what it means and decide what's next on your own terms.

your body has carried you this far. that already counts for something.

I know the BMI is flawed and I’m not particularly healthier now than I was at a slightly higher weight but I am proud of myself for reaching a goal I had set for myself.

On a separate note I had been thinking about how I can’t call myself fat anymore. Well, depending on how it’s defined I couldn’t really do that for a while now (I had stopped needing plus-sizes) if not ever (does anyone remember the ‘fategories’? I think I was only ever a ‘small fat’). Not that any of this matters but it just feels weird, I don’t think I’ve ever been in the normal range since I was a toddler.