I Am Not My Jean Size

I didn’t get much of a chance to write a blog yesterday.  I may or may not write two today to make up for it.  Yesterday, I went jeans shopping.  I hate jean shopping.  I hate clothes shopping altogether, except dresses; I like shopping for dresses.  Although I found a great deal at Arc, it was still a hard find. I ended up only buying one pair of jeans, dress pants, and brown corduroys, as well as three cardigans.  I went to Arc intending to only buy jeans, though, and I still would like another pair of jeans.  The problem is, I have a double whammy.  I am obese and tall. Most of the jeans were either too short or didn’t fit at all, and sometimes both too short and too small.

Most days I feel comfortable in my body.  I don’t want to change anything.  And then I go clothes shopping.  Nothing fits right. And I go in feeling fun and confident, but I leave feeling fat.  It is one thing to know you are fat, but it is another thing altogether to feel fat.  Let’s just say I was one more pair of pants away from eating salad for a week.  (I could never eat salad for a week.  That was a lie.)

So, here is the encouraging truth that I am speaking over myself.  I am beautiful.  I was knit together in my mother’s womb by a wonderful Creator God.  My life has purpose.  My identity doesn’t depend on my size.  My identity is more than how I look.  God loves me the way I am, even though He and I both know I need to make dietary and habit-breaking changes.  I am important, valued, and precious in His eyes.  I am not my jeans size.

It is a struggle I think every woman faces, big or small.  You are not your jean size, either.

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