When I was a size 12 and moving up, I saw a size 12 in the mirror. And when I was a size 14, I saw a size 12. And when I was a size 16, I saw a size 12 in my reflection. It wasn’t until I looked at an actual photograph that I really saw that I was fat. And not size 12 fat. But fat.

Now that I’m a size 4, guess what I see in the mirror? A size 10, give or take. How do I know? Because I compare what I see in the mirror to what I know other people are to be. The point is, I don’t see a size 4. I honestly don’t. And that really bugs me. I often find myself obsessing about mirrors. Every mirror I pass, every window or door reflection, I’m looking at myself, trying so hard to see a size 4. But I see a bigger, chunkier self in my reflection. So sometimes I get into this mindset that since I look like I’m a size 10, why not just be a size 10? I have to force myself to realize that I’m the only one that sees me this way. When I look at a photograph, I often don’t even recognize myself. “Whoa? Who’s that? She looks a like me, but she’s skinny.” Seriously. I often don’t realize that’s me at a first glance. So why does my reflection lie to me? And how can I get it to tell the truth?

An interesting addendum. Jonathan never saw me at my true size, either. Not when I was fat. He said he pretty much never saw me as more than a 12 until a couple of months before I joined Weight Watchers. And I was a 14, pushing 16 for at least a couple of years. Isn’t that strange? I think he sees me as a 4 now, though…