Skinny again

I’ve lost weight. I always do when working a season: extremely busy days and lack of motivation for eating once I’ve cooked it, combine to make me a grazer rather than a sit down diner.

I know I’ve lost a lot of weight (but I don’t know how much because I don’t weigh myself ever) because people are commenting on it. People obviously think that I should be pleased that they have noticed but, frankly, I don’t give a damn. My husband tells me I look really good like this but he loves me fatter as well: our affection for each other is based on the person inside, not their exterior facade.

Instead of being gratified by downsizing of clothes, I am merely irritated. There is way too much choice available to me and I can’t decide on any of it. My work stuff has to be belted tight to hold up; even so I felt a pair of knickers slide towards my ankles recently.

Fat girl had a uniform and didn’t have to decide. No mental energy expended here. I don’t want to have to think about whether or not a garment flatters my body or makes me look younger or more sophisticated or more glamorous. A lot of unnecessary angst for an appearance that doesn’t make any difference to my life.

If I was totally honest, I would admit to not liking the changes occurring as a result of weight loss. Skin is saggier and less inclined to display honestly obtained muscles. Taut, toned skin is a thing of the past these days. I can never work hard enough to tighten up the stretched out skin legacy of my pregnancies and my piggishness. I miss the ripe luscious feel that my body used to have.


About quirkycharm

I like to think that I have a certain quirky charm but I am probably being optimistic. Acquired taste, perhaps, which many don't acquire. This is about my fifth blog out there. My hosting companies kept going out of business or my IT exhusband kept hacking into them and I would move again. I don't do twitter, I barely do facebook, I don't try and 'monetize' my blog. I love my husband, my grown children and my job and this particular incarnation of oversharing my life comes at a time when I am the most content that I have ever been. I write always, sporadically during the good stuff and exhaustingly during the bad.
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