Big Beautiful Wuss

Sorry guys, I promised myself I would update this thing at least twice a week, figuring it'd be good for me to write what I feel down more often. Between the wife hat, the mom hat, the employee hat, the daughter hat, the friend hat and all those other hats I wear, I rarely give myself much time anymore.

I want to talk today about self image. I need to talk about self-image. I don't think my husband truly understands how a woman's mind works sometimes... hell I don't even think I understand it sometimes...

I would most definitely call myself confident. Well, confident-ish. See? Right there... why are we so complicated? I am a big woman. I have a huge ass, flabby stomach and my arms are NOT thin and proportionate. Nope, I'm a big girl. And some days, I don't give a flying (beep) about it. My husband sees me walking around the house in something skimpy, flaunting myself and thinks, wow, she's HOT!

But the next day I may be sitting on the couch wishing my thighs didn't dimple all over, or trying to suck my belly in because I hate how my shirt clings to it. He asks me where's that confident girl who was strutting around in nothing but panties and high heels?

I don't know. I don't know where she goes... and why she leaves a depressed fat girl in her stead. I don't know why one day I look at stick thin women and scoff, thinking I've got a lot to offer myself, AND I don't have to starve. Then the next day I long to fit into something not bought at a specialty store... to throw on whatever's clean and look fantastic...

Why does it go up and down so much? And not just like, normal fluctuations... I mean seriously different. I know that I can feel fabulous and sexy...

I am fabulous and sexy. I know I am. I just forget. A lot.