I yammered on about how morbidly fat I am, but how I don't let it define me. While this still holds true today, my grasp on not letting it define me is growing weaker and weaker.
I still absolutely refuse to reveal any of these issues to Lovie. (Just yesterday she wanted to go to the park after school but I had to pee badly so we stopped at a Wendy's. And, of course, once she realized we were in a place with burger and fries she wanted a burger and fries. And I got her some. Because she's TWO. Because eating this shit in moderation IS ABSOLUTELY OK! Even if it's fried. Even if it's not organic. She ate 3/4 of the burger and all her fries, downed her water and barely touched her mini Frosty. And when she was done, we went to the park where she ran around for an hour.)
But, I have GOT to make some changes. I cannot allow my size to define me and I feel myself slipping toward that.
I deserve more. SHE deserves more.
I guess this is more Mama and/or Lovie related than I thought.
Pouring my Heart Out and Linking up with Shell at Things I Can't Say.