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My step-mother is evil. I've told you this before. But she reinforces it every damn time I see her or speak to her. It happened again the other day.
I had to see my dad and her for Christmas. Which is a horrible way to look at it. "Had to." But it's the truth. If I could see my dad without her, it might turn into "get to."
Anyway, within about five minutes, she made a comment about how fat I am. And asked how my diet is going. I responded, "I am not on a diet. But I am fine, thanks for asking."
Seriously, I've lost three pants sizes since they saw me last. Could you maybe give me a compliment on the way I look? No, she can't. Kind words are not in her vocabulary.
Not to even get into that I've been through HELL in the last year. Recovering from a miscarriage, then struggling with infertility, two grandparents' suicide attempts, one ultimately dying, my fiance leaving me, job uncertainty. So yeah, thanks for your concern.
And what's worse is, I know I'm doing well. I know I look good. I know I'm doing things that are good for me, mentally and physically.
But she makes this comment, and all I want to do is eat. Well, maybe eat and drink. But mostly eat.
It doesn't help that I have major PMS right now. But ever since seeing them, I've been eating worse, and I've had to force myself to do even the smallest amount of exercise. And it's the holidays. And maybe I'm just full of excuses.
I swear, I'll feel better soon. And dammit, I still look good in those skinny jeans.
So back in October I wrote a post about trying on a pair of skinny jeans. I had been wearing 16's for a very short time, and these were 14's. I decided not to buy them, because I reasoned that before I could really wear them, I'd be in an even smaller size.
I bought a pair of skinny jeans this weekend. In a 10. TEN. Granted, they are very stretchy, but still. I haven't worn anything with a 10 on it in probably 6 years.
I still haven't stepped on a scale yet. I know I'm doing well. People are telling me they can see the change. Friends, complete strangers. I think my coat is too big. Anyway, I have this fear of stepping on the scale and not liking the number and going into a complete tailspin. So, I still haven't done it.
I also haven't actually worn the jeans yet. But hopefully I will very soon.
I consider writing blip-its about myself a form of torture, but can talk about my interests, plans, dreams, and ideas for hours. I'm 37 years old, hapily married and mother to one human child and two dogs. My life, career, and eating habits are ever-evolving. I would like to lose about 30+ pounds and still be able to enjoy food and life.
I'm 41 years old, single, and I live with two dogs and two cats. I'm experimenting with semi-vegetarianism and recently gave up diet soda. I work from home, hate sports, love junk food, and would like to lose about 50 pounds. And win the lottery.