I gave away all of my skinny clothes the other day.

Ok. I kept one skirt, a thick polyester orange and pink diamond-patterned vintage beauty that I found in a Goodwill shop more than ten years ago and couldn’t let go. But the rest…gone. All of the sexy tops and stylish skirts and all of the size 14 and 16 dresses that I cross trained and puked my way into are gone. I gave it all to a women’s shelter, and thanked the women who took the five big bags and one box profusely for turning them into hope for someone else.

I am a size 22. I am not going to get any smaller. That’s that. I have dieted and starved and thrown up and run and lifted weights and taken this miracle pill and that one, and the only permanent change I have ever made is in my resolve to love my imperfection. My weight has gone down, and then back up, and down a little more and then back up – and past – where I was before. It is a losing game, kids.

So, along with my thick thighs and big arms, I have accepted the fact that I will never wear those things again. Holding on to them was like keeping some long-dead ghost on life support. I know it is not popular in the Size or Fat Acceptance communities to say this, but every time I saw those bags of size fourteens, I felt terrible. Sometimes I look at my big round face and still feel terrible. I don’t always love how I look or the size pants I wear or the meager variety of stores I am limited to at the mall.

But I do love me. I do. I couldn’t be happier with who I am right here, right now. And if a big stomach is part of the deal, so be it. The one thing I refuse to do is allow my sometime dissatisfaction with my outwardness to hold me back from doing one single thing I want. I like to swim. And shoot hoops. And dance. And ride a bike. And eat sweets. And exist. Size twenty-twos do all of that.

So, I made a lot of room in my closet for some clothes that actually fit and represent who I am now. Today. Tomorrow. For realz.

In other news, I heart this video so much. Apparently, Stephen Colbert leveled some kind of challenge at his viewers to “make John McCain exciting.” This is one entry:

I’m not surprised, though, that McCain missed the 5000 point jump on the flag. It’s just his way to miss the mark.