I believe it's called Manifest Destiny?
I'm not going to lie. Weight loss is a total bitch. A whorey bitch. A stinky, smelly, whorey, bitch. And to make matters worse, I suck at it. I suck so bad that I don't even try. I don't talk about it. I don't acknowledge it. Atleast not on the outside. But on the inside, I notice it.
And then, I realized. I'm not the only one who notices. And I'm not being fair. In the course of one conversation, a myriad of emotions were felt. Anger, rage, resentment, love. Most of all love. It started with a simple statement.
'Let's do this together'
And it got deep. Real deep. And it got real. And I am even more in love with my husband now than ever. After a week of crying and sobbing and acting hysterically, I got control of myself and I'm moving forward.
I moved from sadness. Why doesn't he love me no matter what? Why can't I weigh 300 pounds and he accept it? I went through anger. Why is weight so important? I think my curves are fantabulous. Fuck him! Who are you? the food police?
And the most glorious of all states: acceptance.
Did you hear me???? ACCEPTANCE. I accept that I'm not the same weight I was when I met you. 10 years ago, HOLLA!! In fact, I'm 45+ pounds more than I was when I met you. And that is not fair. It's not right. I'm beautiful, yes. I'm awesome, of course! I'm your best friend, without a doubt. But I'm overweight. And as bad as that furreeeeekin sucks, it's true.
and because I love you. And because I love myself. And because I love our boy. I'm going to change. I can do it. I have demons that need to be fought.
Those demons should be afraid because I'm a damn ninja and I'm pissed. Something is different this time. I'm fighting for my life. I'm fighting for my marriage. I'm fighting for intimacy. I'm fighting for a decent tasting black bean burger. I'm fighting for happiness and love and confidence. I'm fighting for ME.