Ugh… Today’s blog post is hard.  My weight.  Yikes.  Ask a woman what she doesn’t like about herself, and I’d venture a guess to say that her weight is somewhere on that list. 

I went to the doctor a couple of weeks ago to have something checked out and like any doctor’s appointment, it started with stepping on the scale.  Ugh.  First off… it’s the end of the day, I’m fully dressed for work, and I have my purse and keys on me… I know the weight on the scale is going to be bad. 

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Yikes… I weigh how much?  I have NEVER seen that number.  Not even when I was 9 months pregnant with my 2nd child.  I always told myself that I was never going to get that big again in my life…and now I’ve passed that number by almost 20 pounds?  How did I get here?  How did I get to the point where I hate myself physically? 

My husband tells me all the time that to him, sexy is a mindset.  And I will agree to a certain point, I can agree with that…if I don’t feel sexy in my mind, there is nothing that will fix that.  However, I want to look sexy too.  I love my hubby dearly…however, when I met him, I weighed in at over 140lobs lighter than I am now.  Shit… that’s like an entire person.  Granted, when I met him, I was in high school… chances of me staying at that weight…well… what are the chances that most people stay at their high school weight.   Shit…even my college weight, when I was walking everywhere and not eating much was still heavier than my high school weight.  To be honest, I don’t expect to ever see either of those weights again.  When my hubby decides that he wants to lose weight, he goes from 2 beer a night to 1.  Or he cuts out French fries or a dessert.  And BAM, he loses weight.  I love him, but he doesn’t get it. 

A photo popped up on Facebook from 6 years ago… of course I looked younger than I do now (didn’t we all) …but the thing that I noticed the most… my face wasn’t round.  I didn’t have a huge double chin that I was desperately trying to hide.  I looked healthy(er)…at least physically.  I eat my emotions.  I have for as long as I can remember.  It’s a vicious cycle…I get upset because I’m fat, so I eat.  I eat because I get upset.  Food became my friend.  I turned to food when I’m stressed.  I turn to food when I have feelings like anxious, depressed, sad, bored. 

I am ashamed of where I am.  What I let myself become.  How long it’s going to take me to regain what I had. 

So how am I going to fix it?  I have to do something.  One small step at a time.  My BFF challenged me to join her in the 75Hard challenge.  I have to at least try.  I’ll try not to blog too much about how hard it is or the things that I hate about it…after all…I want to gain readers, not make you all hate me. 

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