Why is it that I am willing to stop living my life because of fat? Thinking logically about it in that terms makes me feel so silly, so ridiculous...yet it's there and it sure isn't going anywhere no matter how many times I try to Kumbaya it away.
I had a terrific time going home. I mean TERRIFIC!! I was able to soak in my family and friends and my cat in. I loved being able to drive around and know exactly how to get where I was going and knew all the streets between me and there. No guessing, no worrying! It felt so stress-FREE! (You know what I mean when you move to a new place and even if you've been there a year you still wonder, "where does that street lead to?") And to bring myself back to my ridiculous self of not living due to being fat...it felt so nice to visit with my family and friends. Was I probably judged about my weight? Yes but I didn't notice it! I hadn't been home in a year and the last 6 months I really didn't want to go home because I felt even fatter than when I left. I was feeling who wants to have fun while carrying a 6th grader on my back. But even with that middle schooler on my back, I am so thankful I went home. I felt like I was given new eyes to my life. I felt refreshed and ready to go live my stressful, crazy life.
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