Damn girl, that's a lot of fattitude

I have a part of me that I call my “fat pack” it is where I am 100% the most insecure in my appearance. My lower ab, my pooch, my fat pack, my front butt, my arch nemesis. It’s the first thing I see in the mirror and the last thing I want anyone else to see.

Yesterday I caught myself looking in the mirror and kinda sorta actually liking what I saw. Am I at goal weight? Hell no! Am I anywhere near goal weight? Hell no! Am I done? Hell no! But – I wasn’t disgusted. I noticed that my panties sit lower on my tummy then ever, my belly button isn’t such a pit of doom, I’m more shapely and when I sit down those low sitting panties aren’t rolling under my fat pack.

This morning, as I was getting ready – I stood in the mirror wearing panties and a tank top with my arms over my head putting my hair in a pony tail and actually smiled. I looked curvy and shapely, womanly and thick. I looked beautiful. I made the decision not to weigh in because I was so pleased with what I saw, but I did take a measurement and wow! Since the last time I took my measurements I’ve lost 2.5″ in my hips and 1.25″ in my waist.

I started lifting weights 3 weeks ago and I’m noticing a difference in my arms. I stopped being crazy about 3.5 weeks ago and I’m noticing a difference in my self esteem. I’m still struggling with the weekends, but I’m learning. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned with the Holidays looming ahead. I was contemplating going back to my daily weigh ins to get me through the Holidays; however, this morning was the affirmation I needed that I didn’t need to go back to daily, and every couple of weeks is just fine. So, maybe I’ll weigh in this Friday and maybe I won’t.