“In fact, Caro, I wanted to ask you a question. Were you curvy before?”, I was asked yesterday by a person have been working with on a project (the next step of that important thing I couldn’t talk about and which I still can’t talk about but in short, it’s progressing).
Next to us, my friend Lud, who also doesn’t know me for a while but long enough to know that indeed before – and this in a close past – I wasn’t really slim, said, amused: “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
Well…yes, I’m not going to tell bullshit, eh. Perturbing too. Because let me be clear, I’m still curvy. In my head, first of all. On the scale too, much less than before, right, but for any Dukon, I still have a dozen of ‘extra’ kilos.
But flagrantly, for this person – who immediately became my best friend for life -, I can simply be categorized as ordinary, neither slim nor fat, in any case not enough to justify the title of my blog (it’s the former that triggered her question).
Why do I tell you this, apart from the fact that I need to boast? Because it made me aware that sometimes, you need truth to come from the outside. From someone who hasn’t been involved, who would see you for first time without any influence from memories from BEFORE. Because I’m still sincerely convinced I’m curvy despite the proof of my new size 10, I’m also fairly certain that my kin still see me as curvy too. Just like they are for me how they are right now but also how I’ve perceived them since I know them.
Ok, I’m losing you now, sorry, I’ve had some Jean-Claude Van Damme for breakfast and I can’t digest it.
No seriously, actually, I don’t really have a message to convey, other than yes, in six months, I’ve changed. My outward covering has changed. And as doctor Z often suggested, it didn’t revolutionize my life. I’m not happier or less happy, not more or less loved.
Then I won’t lie to myself, I do not want to gain those kilos again. Why, if I’m not happier? For all reasons listed here. And also because, before, I would never have bought a strapless dress with big white dots. This might be a wrong reason. Especially as the Churros, when he saw it, didn’t find anything to say other than: “yes, it’s nice, but why do you wear it with a t-shirt?”
Which I wouldn’t necessarily have taken badly if I indeed had decided to wear a t-shirt. Except, as it happens, the dress is made like that, like trompe l’oeil basically.
Come back on the second round darling for your blow job.
But let’s come back to our subject.
I also know very well that my terror of gaining weight again is in itself a threat to put on weight again. That said, casually, I have the impression that I play it less by ear, that I have a simpler relationship with food, the heat has been taken out, let’s say.
I still find myself sometimes, on very tiring days, engulfing the content of my plate as if a starving armada was about to steal it from me. When I realize that I have barely tasted what I’ve just eaten and that my meal is closer to filling up than savouring, I manage on the other hand to slow down the process better than before. And if I can’t, I simply tell myself that I’ll wait for a real hunger before eating again.
Regularly, I do something I was forbidding myself from doing before: buy a great cake, custard tart or mille-feuille, my two personal hits. On that day, a Wednesday usually, I eat almost nothing for lunch to really enjoy my sin.
I still eat my pain au chocolat on my way to work, I still munch two pieces of Milka after each meal. And, incredible fact, I always have a slab of the said chocolate in my desk, a slab that will last in average ten days, even more. Never until now, have I fallen for it and killed it in three minutes.
There you go, it was a totally disjointed article, written because I haven’t seen Zermati for more than one month. A cancelled appointment, a few leave days, and, I don’t know, the need to call back is not strong enough. Probably the temptation of having a break, to see what’s going to happen if I go on as a lonesome cowboy, a bit of laziness, a spectacular come back as well of my indecisive side.
I’ll keep you posted for sure of the course of the events.
Edit: In case the Betty Boop dress inspires others, it comes from Naf-Naf.
