I'm not sure when it was the last time I saw my cousin Mitzi, but this last week when she came into town to visit, her eyes popped when she saw me.
"Oh my gawd, have you lost weight?"
"Yeah, seven pounds," I said proudly.
"No, you've lost more than that."
"Nope. Just seven pounds in the last few months."
"Well then you've definitely lost inches. You look like you've lost a lot of weight."
Do I? I didn't think I did.
I look at pictures of myself from last year, and sure I can see a bit in my face at certain angles, and I can certainly feel a little different. But to have changed so much to make that big of a difference to someone who hasn't seen me in a while (yet still sees my pictures on Facebook and such), it threw me for a loop.
So I looked at myself in the mirror from different angles. Trying to see what she might have seen, and there, the smallest of differences - I saw it. I've seen it before too. Watching Biggest Loser (though theirs is much more dramatic) I've seen it when a fully bloated stomach slowly starts deflating. Just the tiniest of difference. Instead of smooth skin being stretched over a large mass, I can see a subtle dimpling in my skin. The texture is changing. It's not being pulled and stretched and pushed to the max. It's relaxing.
And I can see it.
Sure it's probably not the drastic change that my cousin saw in me, but it's enough for now. One pound at a time. One centimeter at a time. One small detail at a time.