I was just called “tiny” this morning by my neighbor.
“Oh my, you’re so tiny!” she exclaimed from her porch as I got out of my car.
It startled me. I think I said “thanks,” but I’m not quite sure, really.
She continued the conversation by asking, “how many?,” referring to how much I have lost. I told her. But the word was still in my head. “Tiny.”
I was surprised. Never in my days have I been referred to as “tiny.” Not even my feet have been called tiny. My brain can’t wrap itself around that description for me. In my head I’m still big.
I told my mom about what was said, and we laughed. Hmmm.
Just as I thought – my being “tiny” is laughable. Silly? Odd? I can’t even type the word without using quotation marks. Like it really isn’t real. Just an idea.
Is it farfetched that I could possibly be “tiny?”
My neighbor must have felt my disbelief at the word because she said “you do have a small frame.”
Ok. That explains it. Right?
It’s not my body that’s tiny as much; it’s that I’m short in stature. That makes more sense, right?
Why can’t I accept the word and idea of “tiny?” It’s like when a friend I hadn’t seen in a long time kept saying how “amazing” I looked.
“You look amazing!” he said. “Thank you,” I replied. “No, really, you look amazing!” I guess I just didn’t look like I believed him. And, perhaps I didn’t. “Truly, you look so amazing!” Ok. Ok.
Being tiny or amazing was never on my radar as a goal. Healthy. Comfortable. Happy. Those are my goals.
I’ve always been called “fat, slob, huge.” The words “tiny and amazing” were never in the vocabulary to describe me and my body before. It’s going to take some time to switch my thinking in more positive terms.
I’ll get there. The tiny changes will be amazing in the long run.