Overweight

My whole life I’ve been a little on the chunkier side, I’m a little squishy for sure. I was never skinny, even when I was little I had a belly. But always, I was at a healthy weight for my height. I’m 19 and around 5’4”-5’5” and for a while weighed right around 135. I know I’ve gained weight since then, I was over 140 at my last doctors visit and I was fine with that because I knew it was still considered a normal, healthy weight. I’ve always been a little self conscious but thought as long as it’s a “healthy” weight, I’m fine. I have an event coming up on Monday and I decided to wear a skirt I haven’t worn in a few months so I pull it on and zip it up. I can barely zip it, what’s going on? Oh finally the zipper is staying up, good. I look in the full length mirror I have against the wall on the south side of my bedroom. “Ew,” I think “that’s a bad muffin top”. At this point I just attempt to find a shirt that will properly cover my belly so I don’t feel self conscious about it. I finally put on an adorable top that’s a little tight on the girls but it’ll cover my belly well and I feel like I look good. I don’t feel hot but I look hot. I put on a cute choker to seal the deal and decide this will be my outfit and take it all off to throw on an oversized tee and go to bed. The next day I wake up, drink my coffee and eat a donut-just one. I spend my day cleaning and just laying around. I took a shower late and walked into my room and hung my body towel on a hook on my door. I stare at my body in the mirror, examining the roll on my back and my very visible love handles, the way one breast is significantly larger than the other and I start getting very critical. I wrap back up in my towel and go back to the bathroom. I pull my scale out, covered in dust because it hasn’t been used in ages and I take a deep breath and step on. I look down and it reads 151 pounds. I step off, then back on. Off, then back on. I’m in shock. It’s an analog scale, it must just be wrong. I grab a 5 pound dumbbell from my room and lay it on the scale. Damn it! It says 5 pounds. The scale is accurate. I officially weigh more than my boyfriend who-granted-is pretty skinny. That’s something I’ve always been insecure about. I never cared what my weight was as long as my boyfriend weighs more than me. I understand it shouldn’t matter and I should love my body but to me it does matter. I immediately start googling and find out that for my height, I am technically overweight. I’ve never been overweight before. I know I haven’t been eating right but I work at a restaurant, I thought maybe I was active enough to make up for it. Obviously I was wrong. Monday morning I had planned to start running anyway because I already wanted to get in better shape. And I guess I will weigh myself in the morning when my stomach is empty. I just need someone to talk to. I honestly feel silly complaining about being barely overweight but my weigh has always been a thing for me and to know that I’m no longer in the “healthy” or “ideal” weight range terrifies me. I think the last time I got my BMI it was like 22 and now it’s over 25. It’s just scary for me to realize that I actually am overweight.