Fat

I suppose I never came to terms with my fat till now. When I thought I was obese, I actually looked like I could be blown out the room with a fan. Now when I thought all in fine in my world, my MIL insinuates I am not good enough to roam the land of planet Earth because I do not have a figure to grace a centrefold and do not have kids so that other people will not look down on her. Ok. Back up a bit. My world is fine and I am very happy with all that the good Lord has blessed me.

Granted, I love my food. I proudly declare that I live to eat. I would insist on euthanasia if I could not taste food any longer. However, I surely do not think I am THAT fat for her to compile a scrap book of ads and products for me. FYI, amongst the ads are some other ads about fertility and yada yada yada.

So, the issue at hand is not about her. It's about me.

Am I really so fat? Do I look disgraceful to you and your family? Do you really need a granchild to be validated? Am I going to have kids someday? Do I know my husband's sperm count?

I already know the answers to all those questions but just needed to get it out of my system. It was a flashback to my insecure self when I was very much younger and would strive and wish I was someone I was not. Those days are over baby, I am all me and here to stay.

As I sip my tea and have a foodgasm with my butter cookie, I thank God that I am wonderfully made - warts and all :)