There's a great article by Kerry Colpitts, who describes the social changes associated with significant weight loss.
MONDAY, JANUARY 26, 2015
I wonder how much others really are interested in my innermost, but that's what is most significant for me. As a well-socialized introvert, I still prefer my own scintillating internal dialogue. Translating for the external audience, well, is exhausting. But here I go. If I write it down, I might save having to repeat myself. When I was my largest, there already was a mismatch between my inner image and my external self. Inside I'm slim, I'm dynamic. Denial and avoidance are very handy tools, and they worked pretty well as long as flitted past my reflection real fast. Now I gaze in the mirror longer. I measure, I compare. There are new bones to discover and I lay in bed at night feeling my rib cage, my collarbone, my shoulders. I massage the loosening rolls of fat in my back.
Frankly, I'd be happy to stay where I am. At the top of my ribcage I am my smallest, a size ten. The excess fat and skin at my belly and my breasts means I am size 12/14 for slacks, but I need a Kim Kardashian sized bra. I am a pear with breasts.
If I stay tucked in with firm support gear, I get around without too much flopping. Besides the change in appearance, my lighter self can now move. And that is what I am most excited about. I run. I Zumba. My improved mobility and energy is so transforming, I'll fight to keep it.
But back to that inner self. I began checking with my ID back in January, confirming that the conscious choices I had made weren't going to be sabotaged through the back door. Was my inner girl satisfied with these changes? I was blessed with two powerful images of my inner self, which I carry around in my mental wallet. The first was of the dancing Hippo from Fantasia.