According to the goals I set for myself earlier this year, I should have lost 23 pounds by now. I have not lost 23 pounds.
I was not depressed about this until I saw recent photos of myself.
When I imagine how I look, I don’t see myself as this…curvy. If I catch a glimpse in a shop window or see a photo, there’s a brief moment of surprise as I reorient myself to reality. Do I really look like this?
Here’s an example of how I imagine myself to look…
…cute little cardigan, skinny waist, sexy long neck, and petite little arms.
I know how I got here, but the thing I’m finally allowing myself to admit is that I might never go back. I’m 40, I had a couple kids, I have a desk job, I drink a lot and love to eat good food.
And let’s face it, I don’t have the against-all-odds kinda will power that people make documentaries about. Sometimes the need to wear pants is a roadblock to my day. So, while it’s technically possible for me to lose 40lbs, I guess maybe I just don’t want it bad enough.
It’s much easier to write this whiney blog post from the comfort of my wifi-enabled bedroom.