Today's Weight 172.0lbs
Hallelujah, someone’s finally noticed that I’m losing weight! I was getting paranoid that somehow the loss of 58lbs (or 25.2% of my original body mass) was unnoticeable on my 5 foot 1” tall frame. But now, finally, I’ve had an “OMIGOD, you’ve lost a lot of weight!” conversation, and I feel pretty damn ego-boosted, if the truth be told.
It’s good to have a bit of an ego-boost today of all days, because tomorrow is my sister’s wedding, and the consequent gathering of the clan.
I felt SO ugly and lumpy and unattractive at the last wedding I went to back in August last year, and though I know I look better today than I did back then I’m still woefully aware that I’ve a long way to go before I’ll feel properly comfortable with my size.
And photos – don’t even get me started on my dread of photos! I’m horribly non-photogenic, and manage to look even uglier in photos than I am in real life. Jabba the Hutt ugly, if I’m captured in an unguarded moment.
But hell, it’s my sister’s big day, so I won’t hide at the back of the group or put a paper bag over my head - I’ll take my place towards the front and smile my little head off instead.
Jeeze, the things I’ll do for my big sis!
Anyway, I did consider breaking my anonymity and posting a photo on here of me in my wedding outfit, but cowardice got the better of me so you just have to take my word for it that I look better now than I did 50 weeks ago, before I embarked on this weight-loss programme.
If you want to imagine what I look like in my wedding outfit, just fix a picture of Angelina Jolie in your mind’s eye, wearing a beaded, dark chocolate brown velvet skirt and matching cashmere top, and you won’t be too far from the truth. Heh. To be the spitting image I just need to grow around a foot, shrink around 70lbs and have a million pounds worth of cosmetic surgery work done – but that’s not much, right?
If the parental reports can be believed my sisters have engaged in much buying of stomach-control-Bridget-Jones-type underwear and other contraptions to corral their unruly flesh for the big day, but I’ve resisted the temptation to follow their example. The thought of having the breath squeezed out of me all day by boa-constrictor-strength knickers is too horrendous to contemplate. Instead I’m striving for serenity and body-acceptance, and I’ll hold my head high and try to be proud of my untamed (but much reduced) bulges. But what the hell, maybe I’ll do just a teensy bit of sucking-in-of-the-gut when the photographer tells us to say cheese.
The bride will look beautiful, I’m sure. Of all us 4 female siblings she’s the only really pretty one (she takes after mom, as mom never tires of telling us!), and she also has the best figure by far. Hateful bitch! Heh, heh, I’m only kidding. I couldn’t be more proud of her. She’ll make a lovely bride, and I can’t wait to see her dress tomorrow – apparently it’s a hand-stitched, hand-beaded ivory velvet gown cut in an Empire style (think of the dresses in Pride and Prejudice), so she should look stunning.
Awwwww, my big sis is getting married. Sob. Sniff. I can feel the emotions welling already…