I’ve gained 20 pounds.
I know. Holy. I mean, not 20 lbs total, but if I measure myself from the wedding in the AM to the evening last night after a big dinner, then it’s like 19. and really, in the morning, it’s more like 15. Oh my Lord, I’m a Freshman all over again.
But I’m already back at the gym and eating my raw veggies and doing what I should do. But this doesn’t stop me at all from getting down on myself for doing the one thing I swore I didn’t want to do, get married and fall into bad settling in habits. I care what I look like.
Sir LAA tells me I look the same. I know I don’t. I know looking in the mirror and how my clothes fit and I hate it. Hate it hate it hate it. But, I’m going to forge on, it’s necessary for me to feel good. Plus, there are mountains of people who watched me lose the weight, and I feel like I’m letting them down too.
This is a horrible spiral. I just want to wear something sleek and sexy and feel good again. Come on. I just got back from the gym on my lunch break and thought jotting this all down would stop the hunger grumbling in my stomach, plus my bruised ego.
The struggle is real.