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Ok, I decided I didn't much care to look at a big behind
every time I logged on to the page so I deleted my last blog. :)

I wonder if that is how we feel
when we do start putting on a few pounds.
I know for me I all but avoided mirrors and cameras like the plague.
I think every photo I had of me I would stand in back,
hold something in front of me,
or grab an animal to place on my lap.

Something anything to keep from having to be
front and center in all my hugeness.
I just don't want to see it or acknowledge it.

Truth is I just wanted to go into hiding.
No social events, no family gathering,
if the world could just be put on hold
...hmmmm....

Even then, oh the power of digital cameras...
one quick flick of the thumb and all transgressions are removed.
So what if they are family photos or taken on the great wall of China.
We simply can't have it.
(AS if people can't see me in person).

What is it with the games that we play with ourselves? I'll start tomorrow.
I'll write my goal weight down on a calendar and figure out exactly how many ounces I have to lose in order to be that weight by that date.
I don't know how many sizes a girl needs represented in one closet.
But it was a really freeing thing to give away everything that didn't fit.
And a little scary at the same time knowing my history.

Or put myself through some form of inhumane deprivation as if that was the answer.

Desperate times call for desperate actions.

It made me think about the lengths I have gone to.
Wonderbra's, weight watchers, grapefruit diets, atkins, shoulder pads, control top pantyhose, bronzer used to define my chubby cheekbones like Linda Evans. LOL.

And there is my sweet husband loving me just the same.
The things that the poor man has been subjected to.
Emptying out my closet hanger by hanger in an attempt
to find something that fit, and making us late
for a big event or wedding. (more than once)

What is that?
In the 25 years I have been with him,
he never once has thrown a hissy fit about what to wear.
Or if he looks fat, etc.
Come to think of it neither has my cat and he always looks dapper...
and the beagle, well...he does look fat, but cute.

So here I am contemplating what on earth I'm planning on wearing for our little getaway at the end of the month.
By the pool.
To the theme parks. Out for a nice dinner.

I want to be one of those girls who looks good in anything,
who just effortlessly pulls her golden locks back into a ponytail and washes her face. Who tans easily.
Who can wear flipflops without feeling like a cross between
Atilla the Hun and Gerald Ford.
(I know...not pretty)
By the way the girl I describe does eist she's my very very good friend...sigh.

Wouldn't it be nice to be able to pack a small duffle bag
with ease for a weekend? Where did that change? When did that change?

When did I care more about concealing the bulges and spackling crows feet more than who I was spending time with?
Did it come along with the weight?
If so will it finally leave when I do reach my goal weight?
Or should I just ignore it a plug ahead anyway?

What if it is all about being comfortable IN my skin, rather than simply how I look or what I'm wearing today? What if it's deeper?

Like who I am? Those are a lot of tears, worries, and stresses.
Just to realize that I'm ok, always have been. People don't love me or accept me because of my size or shape. Why is that so hard to grasp?