We had a neighborhood party tonight, to say goodbye to some good friends who are moving to St. George tomorrow. There were a lot of people there, all neighbors who I know well, but with everyone’s busy schedules and lives, we often only see each other on Sundays at church. Between not seeing each other often and the fact that I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt instead of a suit and tie, almost everyone I talked to tonight wanted to talk about my weight loss.
The crazy thing is, I was fine with that.
Over the past nine months, I have gotten a lot of compliments from people on the improvements I’ve been making, and I’ve learned that I suck at accepting compliments. I make jokes, I deflect, I do anything other than what I should do, which is give a sincere “thank you.” But as time has gone by, I’ve gotten a little bit better at it, not because I’m more used to it, but because I’ve started to believe that I deserve the compliments.
When someone tells you you’re looking good, but you’re still 100+ pounds overweight, that’s a hard compliment to accept, even if you know the person means it. When someone says, “You’re looking skinny,” but you’re still wearing a 3XL shirt, you don’t really believe it.
Tonight, though, I was pleased to fine myself giving honest, heartfelt “thank yous” in response to people’s honest, heartfelt compliments. I was wearing size 42 jeans that are already loose on me three weeks after I bought them, and a t-shirt I’ve owned for several months but have only recently started wearing because it was too small. Yeah, I still have a way to go — probably another 40 or 50 pounds — but I’ve realized that losing 103 pounds (maybe more, we’ll see tomorrow morning!) is a big deal, something to be proud of, so when good friends paid honest compliments, I had no problem accepting them.
I guess maybe getting healthy is turning me into a more mature adult. 
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