If 'Fat' was a color in the Crayola box I would be monochromatic every.single.day. For the forty-eleven millionth time I am going on a "diet". I know that word has become taboo, as we are supposed to embark on a life long journey of change and healthy eating, or some crap. But, to me, I'm on a diet. Let's call a spade a spade.
I'm 29 - 30 this summer - married, currently unemployed/laid off, and live near the beach. My husband of a couple years is a couple years older than me. He works A LOT, which I hate until payday. When I was 26 I went through a really horrible break-up and of course vowed vengeance! I lost 55 pounds from January 1 (the last time I saw the asshat) to mid-July. Skinny I was not, but pretty pleased with myself. Then I got engaged.... then I started planning a wedding... then I started gaining weight back. Um, hello? What bride GAINS weight? Der. And then I got married, went on the honeymoon, and settled into newlywed life... and kept gaining. Now I'm even bigger than I was when Asshat left!
I keep looking at all my really cute size 14 clothes and thinking what a moron I am. Little clothes are too cute to not fit into! And so the madness has to end and I need to kick my butt back into gear. Obviously, I know how to do it because I've done it before - I just need to remember.
So here we go........! My journey to remembering - remembering how to eat properly, remembering how to feel better, remembering how to call up my willpower, remembering how to walk without being tired, remembering how to fit comfortably in an airplane seat or an amusement park ride, remembering my way to the "normal-size" section of the department store, and on and on.
Being fat is hard. Losing weight is hard. Pick one.
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