From and including: Thursday, May 12, 2016
To, but not including Saturday, September 17, 2016

Result: 128 days

It is 128 days from the start date to the end date, but not including the end date

Or 4 months, 5 days excluding the end date


Well, folks, there you have it. Despite all my smug affirmations and planning and spreadsheets I'm exactly where I didn't want to be: 4 months out from my wedding with a significant amount of weight I'd like to lose. And summer approaching (which means awfully hot to be outside down south). And I'm likely going to lose all three DietBets I'm a part of. Ugh. So yeah. Not feeling my all time best over here.

And boy did I have a crazy week. One of my best friends announced that she's moving out because her husband is depressed and refuses to seek or accept help and she can't hold it together anymore. So my fiancé and I spent most evenings this week with one or the other of them making sure they were safe, had a shoulder to cry on and didn't do anything rash. It put a lot of our pending wedding conversations in sharp relief. And I drank and ate things I shouldn't have, claiming it was more important to prioritize my friends and their emergency than my diet. 

And on top of all that while reminiscing about my friends' relationship, I decided to flip through their wedding album online from two years ago. And I came across this picture of me. It is, perhaps, the worst picture of me (weight-wise) that exists online. It's literally shocking to me to look at it, because I don't think of myself as looking anything like this. I guess I still have a more college-aged mental image of myself that is more athletic and not so ... obese. The arms, the chin, the back hump, the sheer width of everything is disorienting. I'm not that person! I'm fun! I'm strong! But I'm also the fattest bridesmaid in the album. And the fattest friend most times I'm out with others. So, I guess I'm the fat one? If someone had to describe me to a stranger from across the room, is that what they'd say? 

And I think that's a huge part of my weightloss struggle. Unlike all the media about "normal" girls thinking they are fat when they are not, I'm the opposite. I don't think of myself as being "that big" so ... what could be the harm in one more beer? Or one more cookie? Or both?

But also I know that the denial is not completely true either. The first time I realized that my weight was a problem was in 2011. (FIVE YEARS AGO?! HAVE I LET MYSELF GO FOR FIVE YEARS?!) I was on an AMAZING five day hike in the jungles of Colombia with my sister and I was having trouble keeping up with the tour group. And I saw fear in her eyes. It wasn't fear for my safety (I was going to make it, I just was going slower), it was fear that I was embarrassing her - and myself. I had become so large and out of shape that despite the fact that I wanted to hike the steep trails like a champ, my body was holding me back from the group. We were on the tour for three days when it came to light that not one of the other dozen or so members realized we were sisters. She's thin and blue-eyed, other than that I thought we looked and spoke enough alike that people would still know we are related. But apparently not. Apparently my weight was so distracting different that they couldn't see the similarities. It's a really painful memory for me, slipped right in the middle of what was otherwise a trip of a lifetime.

I don't want to be a fat bride. But I also don't want to be anti-feminist or unhealthy or obsessive about my weight. I think I'm being "realistic" when I cheat or go over my calories, but am I really just self-sabotaging? I don't want to be a cliché but I also DO NOT want to be the woman in that picture - on my wedding day or any other day.

That's what makes this so hard. All the propaganda about focusing on goals and achieving dreams...what about when your goals to be a feminist and healthy and a good friend all at once pull you in different directions? I know I'm not the first person to be feeling this way, but damn, I'm feeling it hard this week.