moonwalker

Being a tomboy, it feels weird to sit here all “made up” for no reason other than trying to see the beauty in myself.  So why cover it in make up?  Well, there’s no real answer for that.  I’m trying to force myself to see myself.  Know what I mean?

When my hubby was last here, at the beginning of Feb, I weighed 209 lbs.  Now, right before his return, I weigh 190.  As he pointed out, that’s 20 lbs since he last saw me!  20 lbs in 3 months.  Not too shabby.  But I don’t see a difference.  Sure, I’m smaller and losing inches, but I can’t see it day-to-day.

And I should.  Everyone else does.  But there’s the fat chick in me telling me to quit trying, it doesn’t matter.  I’m not pretty.  I’ll never be thin.  I might as well enjoy food instead of life.  You know that voice.  It’s so d-mn self-defeating!  I’m so sick of being sick of myself.  So I put on the make-up and force myself to see me.  The hazel eyes, the freckles, the dissapearing double-chin, my Native cheek bones.  I want the reality to sink in.  No, I’m not ugly.  No, I’m not fat.  I’m not a lot of other things.  I’m a pretty woman dissapearing inside my own insecurities.

Why is it that it’s so easy to love and accept others, regardless of their size of comparitive beauty, but we can’t look at ourselves and be kind?  It always surprises me when someone mentions wanting to lose weight.  It doesn’t occur to me that they should.  I don’t see people that way.  But I see it in myself.   And now that I’ve lost some, it’s just not real.  I don’t feel any different than I did 25 lbs ago, except that now I can walk easily.  Sometimes I can almost run.

Other than that, I did weight train lower body today with cardio.  Tomorrow I’m going out for a bike ride.  Hopefully 12-14 miles.  :)  I forgot how long the trail is.  I may have hit the first goal, but I got quite a few more to go!  Plus, working out fills up this new space in my day.  I just do it, like drinking coffee or brushing my teeth.  Sometimes I even look forward to it.