My mom and I chatted again this weekend, congratulating each other on our weight loss and her blood sugar (97 in the morning. Woo hoo!), when she mentioned how happy she was that her green, Sears pants fit again. They’re a size 24. Color me surprised.
Now, I currently weigh only 4 more pounds than her and I’m 2 inches taller to boot. Between that and our obvious hereditary similarities you’d think we’d be wearing the same size pants, right? Wrong! Even though my BMI is lower than hers, I am still wearing size 28 pants. I am so jealous and feel a bit genetically screwed. On the positive side, I can currently wear either a 14/16 or 18/20 top, mostly depending on how stretchy the fabric is, whereas she’s still in 20/22.
So, I guess this goes to show I really am a pear shaped woman. Even when I get down to my goal weight, I can probably only hope to fit into size 12, maybe 10, jeans. Thus is my fate in life.
I’m pear shaped too. My thighs and butt always stay slightly larger. Also since I’ve had my baby I will always have a stomach to contend with.
My mom always weighs less and wears a smaller size too. Even when I swear I look smaller than her. I just don’t get it.
I’m a new reader and looking through your archives—I’m enjoying your writing a great deal.
But this surprises me, too, actually—I wore a 28 at 325. I’m 5’4″. at 255, I wear a 20. Bodies are funny. I’ve been learning that lesson. Not just fat bodies. All bodies. This sounds super-trite, but it’s really interesting how many shapes people come in.