Last weekend Pete and I spent it in this:
Being outside all day wears me out. By 10pm I'm ready to lay in bed for 15 minutes and then get to sleep. Saturday night Pete and I both headed to bed at the same time. We both got ready and lay in the camper with Nico softly snoring between us. Then Pete asked me if I left different on my motorcycle this year.
When I think hard about it, I do feel a bit different. I feel more balance and strength and it's easier to ride. I told him this and he said that I should feel different and that I look different. I asked how I look different. He said that my hips don't overshadow the side bags. I know that he was telling me something good, something positive. But my heart dropped out and I wanted to cry. My brain immediately went to the place where I am the biggest girl in the area and I'm being pointed out. I stopped and breathed a few cleansing breaths and kept thinking.
I realized that no matter how thin I may get, I will always think of myself in some form as that fat girl. Comments about being fat, big, hefty and all the other descriptors will always make me cringe inside. They will always make me sad for that girl who spent so much of her life heavy before she did something about it.
The rest of the weekend I spent with this view: