I've never been secure in anything: my looks, weight, work, anything.
Lately though, with turning 30 in January, my ongoing battle with PCOS and having two babies, and dealing with my own fallout from going crazy last year, I've come to a point where I think it's at it's peak. It can't possibly get any worse.
I don't have a lot of friends, but the few I do have are awesome. But soon none of them will be any closer than a 40 mile drive.
So Jes has been trying so hard to help me make new friends. And I'm trying, really I am!
But in putting myself back out there, I've realized that I am most often the heaviest person in the room. And it hurts to realize that you've let yourself go so much that now you're the fat one.
I've been hitting the gym, riding my bike, and jogging almost daily. I need to clean up my diet, but for now I've cut out pop, any high fructose corn syrup I can find, (That stuff is hidden in everything!) and have been eating as much fruit and veggies I can.
This Monday I start two months of cross-fit, five days a week. I'm going with a friend. But I'm absolutely terrified. But also hopeful that this will kick-start my metabolism and maybe reverse some of the hormone-shifting from the PCOS.
Last night we went out. I wore makeup, and tried not to worry about my looks the whole time. But if I'm being honest, then I wasn't good at it.
Here's hoping the next two months don't kill me.