I’m off to the big blogging conference Problogger in a couple of weeks in Queensland. It’s the first time I’ve been and I’ve had it marked in the diary for months. Alongside the date I had also typed in a weight goal. It was an integral part of my Wobbly journey. I had looked at the date in August, a few days before my 41st birthday, and promised myself that when I went I’d be the healthiest I’d been in years. I also had my eye on getting a beautiful Anthropologie dress and was looking forward to stepping out into the humidity, not feeling like a bloated, achey old woman. I’d feel like a healthy 4o year old in a delicious silk maxi dress. I’d have a glow about me. I had it planned in my head.

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My dream was just that. All in my fucking head.

I’ve let myself down. I always do. I’m back at 90 kilos again. I didn’t get to the under 80 kilo mark like I’d hoped. I keep looking at all the beautiful dresses and have instead opted for flowing black tops instead. I have the belly of a pregnant woman, without the baby though. I look older than I feel and I’m so angry at myself. I am so fucking angry. I know it’ll pass, but today I’m sad and bloated. I’m not sure I can carry on writing about it anymore. I’m sure as hell not doing anything about making changes.

All I can hope is that I’m having a hormonal blip and tomorrow I’ll rediscover my drive. All I can hope is once I clear all my big writing deadlines and have time to breathe again, I’ll also have time to take big strolls and long bike rides. The sun is out more these days and people are emerging from their winter’s hibernation. Maybe that will be the same for me? Maybe I’ll shed this coat of shame and replace it with a shiny silk kaftan of acceptance.

I can’t get that dress I wanted, it will look foul on me and all the others just make me look like I’m trying to hide myself in layers of unflattering fabric. I suppose I am. Why I am so negative about myself? Why am I trying to hide behind my weight? Why I am so scared to succeed at something I make sure I fail?

The irrational part is no-one’s going to give a toss what I look like or what dress I’m wearing. This blogging community is so very supportive of me. Many of the people I’ll be meeting in the flesh for the first time. We’ve already made strong friendships without the baggage of what we look like. Blogging wise I’ve achieved a lot this year and along the way have made some of the most long lasting connections with other bloggers and with you. You fill a gap in my life.

Time to stop wallowing like a pig in a sty. I’m just fat. I’ll have to get over it. Looks like it will be more like ProBLOBBER for me.

 I’ll have to opt for a new pair of shoes instead. Or a fabulous necklace. Got any suggestions?

bigwords x