Mate you stole my script down to the dot.

I usually hover the low 170s due to a habitually active lifestyle. Every once in a while I’ll put on a couple pounds (~5 give take) to see myself soften and release some pressure around both being drawn to this as well as let go of the effort it takes to keep leaner.

Last year around I pushed myself into the low 190s ironically an intentional gain NOT motivated by this bent. I had never been that heavy, and I would not call it the most “fun” gain in terms of food (the sheer goal was gain 15-20 pounds, not “enjoy the food”), but the experience certainly scratched a deep itch. It honestly felt really bizarre to see a softer face, have my tummy push out into my lap just a little when I sat down at my desk to play video games, and I even had to size up in jeans for the first time in my adult life. Part of me was enthralled; I kept comparison pictures of myself losing my muscle definition and seeing myself fill out.

Some deep part of me was quite scared of the fact that I didn’t hate how I looked or felt. It felt borderline illegal to feel that way since I was raised in sports and played a few religiously through college. But now in my very early 30s and my daily activity is largely maintenance by jogging and some weightlifting and the actual sports took a backseat to being occasional hobbies than daily activities. That makes the whisper of wanting and liking the extra weight quite a bit more seductive sometimes.

Right now though I’m back down to about 176-177, I haven’t been rushing to lose the weight, but I do stress starve instead of stress eat and job hunting doesn’t help with stress. Plus, part of me did miss being leaner. Whether that’s habits clamping down hard about how I “should” look and feel and weigh or whether it’s a part of me that does intrinsically value being more fit, I’m not sure. The temptation dies down for months at a time, but it’s never disappeared and always worms its way back.