On my personal Facebook page, I posted before and after pictures showing my transformation from my pudgy middle-age former self. The six month process has been enlightening to say the least. But, when I put the those photos side by side, my realization was staggering. Sure, I feel the difference. I see the difference. However, when looking at the before, I didn’t realize how I had simply settled. It was like I had just given up.
While we were having dinner last night, I was telling Brian about my thoughts regarding the photos and how I can’t believe I was simply okay with how I looked and felt. His eyes were getting bigger because, well, ladies, you know that men feel trapped when we start talking about body image issues. So, you can only imagine the terror that blanketed his face when I asked, “Why didn’t you say anything when I looked like that?”. Clearly, I am delusional by dropping that question in his lap. No man, who values their testicles, would EVER want to get near that inquiry. I could feel him ready to bolt from the table. Sweat starting to build on his forehead. Body quivering in fear. (The two previous statements didn’t happen, but I felt the need to embellish for a more dramatic effect.)
I released him from answering that. Truth, be told, the only time he commented about my weight was when I was five months pregnant with Bailey. I looked like I was having twins. Seriously, people asked and that was probably when I started disliking the human race. Anyway, his exact words were, “You’re huge!” which should never be uttered by a man that values his existence. Obviously, he lived. I was so angry that I forced him to go to Kroger and get me some corned beef. I needed a sandwich from the emotional duress I was experiencing and that happened to be my current craving.
I will restrain myself from intentionally making Brian squirm. While its fun to watch, it isn’t very kind. Skinnier me is trying to be kinder. It’s a slow process.