The Body I Want to Live In

Chapter 1 - Foreword

For most of my life, I was known as a very skinny woman. At 162 cm tall, I weighed about 100 pounds through my teens, twenties, and much of my adult life. People noticed my thinness. It was simply how I looked, and eventually it became part of how I thought about myself.

When I became pregnant at thirty, my weight increased to around 120 pounds. Like many women, I expected most of the change to appear in my belly. What surprised me was how much my hips changed. I remember trying on my largest pants and discovering that they would not fit over my hips. Even though I still felt like myself, my body was becoming something different.

Soon after my child was born, my weight gradually returned to its previous level. Yet something stayed with me. I remembered the feeling of having a fuller body. I remembered my larger belly, my larger breasts, and the sensation of taking up more space. I realized that I liked it.

For years, I returned to that idea again and again. Sometimes I deliberately tried to gain weight. Sometimes I forgot about the goal and simply lived my life. My weight would rise, then fall slightly, then rise again. Looking back, the overall trend was gradual. I moved from being extremely thin toward being more average and eventually somewhat curvy.

By the time I was forty-five, I weighed around 145 pounds. At the time, I felt huge. The feeling was largely relative. Compared to the 100-pound woman I had been for decades, 145 pounds seemed enormous.

Then illness changed everything. A severe infection left me unable to eat properly for weeks, and my weight dropped dramatically to around 110 pounds. Over the following year, my body naturally recovered to about 120-125 pounds.

At fifty, I made a conscious decision. I wanted to experience a larger body again. During the autumn and winter, I gained weight steadily until I reached approximately 160 pounds.

That period became one of the most important experiences of my life.

At first, I expected to enjoy the appearance. What I did not expect was how much I would enjoy the physical sensations. My hips touched when I walked. My breasts became fuller. My face became noticeably rounder. Most of all, my belly became impossible to ignore.

I discovered that I enjoyed feeling my body move. Walking became a sensory experience. I noticed my belly, my hips, and the softness of my body throughout the day. I moved more slowly and more smoothly. For the first time, I understood that my interest in weight gain was not only visual. It was physical. I was learning what kind of body I enjoyed living in.

Of course, there were drawbacks. Walking quickly required more effort. Long distances became more tiring. Bending to tie shoes or put on socks was no longer effortless. Tight spaces felt tighter. Occasionally, my larger body frustrated me when I was in a hurry.

Yet those moments were temporary. The pleasure was present every day.

Eventually, I lost weight again and settled around 147 pounds, where I remained for about a year. During that time, I slowly adapted to my new size. What had once felt large began to feel normal. I stopped noticing my belly as much. I began to think of myself as average.

Then small experiences changed my perspective. A larger bra felt surprisingly comfortable. Summer pants fit differently than winter clothes. Reflections in store windows revealed a body that was still visibly soft and chubby. I realized that my perception had shifted more than my body had.

Through this process, I learned that numbers tell only part of the story.

For a long time, I focused heavily on weight itself. If the scale moved slowly, I felt disappointed. Looking back, that approach often reduced my enjoyment. During this reflection, I came to understand that the number was never the true goal.

The real goal was the experience.

I enjoy softness. I enjoy movement. I enjoy feeling my body occupy space. I enjoy seeing myself in bright clothes and bold patterns. I enjoy the awareness of my body as I walk, sit, dress, drive, and move through the world.

I also understand that health matters. If I continue this journey, I want to do it differently. Rather than chasing numbers alone, I want to pay attention to energy, mobility, comfort, pleasure, and well-being. I want to gain gradually, eat more nourishing foods, remain active, and observe how my body responds.

This is not a story about becoming thinner.

It is not even a story about becoming heavier.

It is a story about discovering, over many years, what kind of body feels like home.

The scale may record the journey, but it cannot explain it. The real journey is learning to recognize the body I want to live in.

(I'm going to write this story in real time, day by day, and publish each month as one chapter. Check up Chapter One in beginning of July 2026)