i love my former fat girl.

I was scanning old Facebook photos today, looking for a good "Throwback Thursday" photo for Instagram (because clearly I have no valid things I need to be doing). I looked through old photo albums from college and, of course, started thinking back to what a blast those four years were. Despite the fact that I was more than 60 pounds heavier than I am now, and seemingly unhappy, it'd be wrong to sit here and tell you that I was a miserable, lonely fat girl sitting in her bed eating cookies. That's silly. It was macaroni and cheese, not cookies.

No, I'm kidding. But really. Here's today's "Throwback Thursday" picture. 

Also, take that as a shameless plug for you to go follow me on Instagram.

The "after" me, both in the picture and sitting behind this computer, easily looks so much happier than the picture on the left. Incredibly overweight with the most unflattering outfit this world has ever seen (at one point, layers were my friend), one could only assume that since I've now lost the weight, I must have realized how miserable my life was before. How could I have been happy? The before me is "gross," "disgusting," "huge." Pick your stinging adjective. And to an extent, you're right. Was I lonely? At times, sure. But even the skinniest of girls can be lonely. Was I aware of how overweight I was? In some ways, no, and in other ways - probably way more aware than any of you. Am I happier now? Yes - but that's not to say I was miserable then. 

It's easy to look back on your former self and do nothing but self-hate. We're our own worst critics, and pointing out the thousands of flaws in your "before" picture won't make you a better person now. It's healthy to recognize your failures, your weaknesses and the times when you know you could have done better. To look at that photo and know that I've taken that mind and body and transformed it into a healthy, happy, strong one is a good thing. To hate my former self? That's not cool, dude. 

I had fun when I was fat. I went to parties, drank way too much alcohol and stumbled home with my best friends and a basket of chili cheese fries. I stood in line for drunk pizza, had karaoke parties in my apartment and threw themed parties almost every weekend. I went to bars, danced like an idiot and wrote my name in the bathroom stalls. I wore high heels, showed too much cleavage and tried miserably to flirt with boys. I spent most of my college career as a single girl, and loved every minute of it. I taught color guard, built great relationships with high school students - some of whom I still keep in touch with. I shopped, traveled and went on spring break with my best friends. And again, I drank a lot of alcohol. Ate a lot of cheese fries. Danced, slept, happy hour-ed, power hour-ed, ate 3 a.m. diner food and then did it all again. 

In the moment, I loved my life. Do I look back now and see signs of how unhappy I was at times? Sure. I see moments where I hid from life - times when I did bail on the bars to stay home in my pajamas and eat a box of macaroni and cheese. Times when I didn't take the risk because my weight held me back. I hated everything I tried on, and wasn't able to shop at the cute boutiques uptown. But I still loved, laughed, cried and laughed again. 

Loving yourself and your body is such an important part of your weight loss journey. Without it, you'll hit your goal weight and still hate what you see in the mirror. But when you hit your goal - or when you're close, don't hate on your former self. You're stronger, better, healthier and happier today than you were yesterday. But you were never gross, disgusting, huge, fatass or a miserable excuse for a human being, so don't start telling yourself that you were. Your intelligence, your drive and your heart is still the same as it was four dress sizes ago, or before you lost the baby weight. And you ought to embrace that. There's more to me than what pant size I wear, how many miles I've run and how many races I've finished. Those size 18 pants held the same heart I have now, and the same sense of humor that causes me to make an ass out of myself in public - at any size. 

I will not hate my former fat girl. I love my former fat girl. My former fat girl stage was when I met some of my best friends, met people that would eventually lead me to my future husband, and formed one of the best friendships I've ever had with the person who will marry us in September. I had late nights and stories I could tell for days, I got my bachelors degree, visited D.C., Daytona Beach and countless other places. It's when I started blogging, started writing and adopted Scout. I love the shit out of my former fat girl, and I wouldn't throw her under the bus for all the size 6 pants in the world. 

Love the former you, whatever size that may be. And let her (or him) shape you into the future you. You'll never get anywhere without her.