I wore this dress when we went out for Thai food and then for ice cream on Saturday night.
I wore this particular dress all the time last summer, until it started to get too big – the shoulder straps kept slipping down and I was slightly bereft when I packed it away when it finally got too big – with the right dangly earrings and even just flip flops, I felt very pretty wearing this particular dress.
And now, the dress is back out of the box and it fits again, hugs my curves in what some would say in all the right places, or would say that it’s still a pretty dress (it is) and while I do still feel pretty wearing it, I’m also conscious of the fact that it fitting again means I’ve gained weight. Again.
I could blither and blather about this and wax poetic with self-pity, but tonight, I’m not sure I care enough. Or maybe it’s enough that I know and understand the why, know that I’m struggling in lots of ways, and not getting to the gym or eating properly is so much of it.
But I’m not being myself, I’m putting a lot of demands on myself, and I’m struggling slightly with the demands of my day to day life. I keep waiting for it to get easier, for the pieces to snap together.
I need to get my crap together, my head in the right space.
But until then…I guess I can handle being curvy (or slightly heavy depending on who’s looking at me) but still pretty. I guess I can.