Monday, July 8, 2013
I'm feeling pretty confident about my head space after receiving so many, "You've lost SO much weight," and "skinny" compliments. That is until I get to work and see the photos I am tagged in from this weekend.
I went on a diet because a) I need to, and b) to help support J2 in meeting the weight requirement for his high-adventure, wilderness adventure in Philmont with Mav and his Boy Scout troop.
As a couple we've lost 120lbs! He's lost the majority of the weight, and I'm so proud of him. In seven months he's dropped two pounds for every one I've lost. Seriously, he's lost exactly twice as much as I have.
So, I see photos from this weekend and I'm thinking, 'WTF! Who is that dumpy-looking fat chick?'
I reflect on last week. I was wearing a two-piece bathing suit while working in the yard. I'm sure the neighbors now call me 'Big Sexy.' I probably scared away all of the woodland creatures and terrified the grass from growing back. The Holly Bushes are looking sparse too.
But the worst part is not the photos. No, not at all!
The worst part is coming home after work today and my boyfriend, who was 100 lbs heavier than I was seven months ago, is confident that he CAN wear my old, trusty, favorite, pair of Abercrombie boyfriend-style man jeans that will still clearly not button across these child-bearing hips.
Imagine the next hour of my life as I attempt to jog while having the Grumpy Cat look plastered on my face.