Fatty McButterpants

The other day, Tracey commented on one of my blogs and said that I shouldn't call myself chubby, and needed to get a new mirror, and for that I thank her greatly.

But I have to explain....there is a fat girl that lives inside me, and she occasionally pops out and says things like:

"White pants? Really? Really."

"You know, that dress looks really good. On the hanger."

"Do you have another pair of Spanx? Maybe you could put them on over the pair you are already wearing."

"Maybe your should skip lunch....this month."

The rest of the time I generally have her convinced that she is happier simply hiding in a closet binging on the Little Debbies I know she has hidden there. As long as she has snack cakes, she stays quiet.

But, she used to not be so quiet. In fact, she used to not hide in the closet at all. In fact, she used to live on the outside, and kept the little girl locked in the closet. But I'm trying to change that.

Back at the beginning of May, 6 of my best girlfriends came into town to visit. We had a fantastic time, and after everyone left, we posted our photos in a communal photobucket. I was so excited to relive all our fun, and then I saw this:


My reaction was complete horror (and then betrayal....why didn't you bitches tell me I looked like that?!?!?)...Oh. My. God. FATTY MCBUTTERPANTS!!! Look at my gut. No wonder my boobs aren't drooping. They're sitting on top of my stomach!! And...is that...BACKFAT????? And just how many chins are in that photo? Certainly more than are warranted by the number of people in the image.

So, I decided that I really didn't want to have to resort to washing myself with a rag on a stick in a couple of years, and not to mention in February there would be wedding photos to contend with (and wedding pictures are FOREVER) I was going to do something about it, damn it.

I got serious about Weight Watchers, J and I bought a dreadmill, and since that photo I have lost 35 pounds.

35 pounds later, same dress...add one minor eye surgery. Arrr...when your a pirate, no one can tell you about wearing pearls before 5.


But, the truth is, no matter how much weight I lose, and whether or not I keep it off, I will always be a chubby girl, and always suffer from chubby girl insecurities. And whenever I look into that mirror, no matter how many of them I buy, it will always be a chubby girl that looks back.