255.0

It's not much, but it's something right?





I didn't get fat over night, so it won't go away over night.





I took the boys for a walk last night for over an hour as I walked in the cold all the way around our neighborhood twice. Thankfully, I live close to the city buildings and they have sidewalks for the most part. Where they didn't, I had to suffer on the side of the busy streets, as is Texas.





I'm not from here, nor am I used to that. In the north, there are sidewalks almost everywhere because people walk from place to place. In Texas it's all about driving.





Which is why we're fat.

I've been searching online for a good source for nutritional information as I'm doing this the old fashion way and cutting my calories. Counting fat, carbs, sugars. etc. is just too complicated, and I won't really stick to it. If I limit my calories and exercise, I'm more likely to accomplish something.

I know, many people will argue this, but it worked for many years before "diets" came into the picture.

So if you know of any, let me know please and thank you!

Screw you Ben. And Jerry too.

I realized this journey was going to be hard, but had no idea that my husband liked me fat.

Sure, I had forewarned him that my ta-tas are fat, and when you lose fat, you lose the ladies. He seemed to be okay with that. Then I told him my booty will go next, and he was a little sad, but said that was fine.

Then Ben & Jerry’s happened.

He was at the grocery store, and as always he went to find what flavor he wanted.

He saw they had a combination of my two favorite things: pumpkin and cheesecake.

His idea was to buy this for me, and in his excitement called me to tell me. To which I replied I would kill him if he brought it home. Then told him, go ahead, I’ll eat it but spread it out over a few weeks as to not wreck my diet.

Then he told me no, he wasn’t going to get it, I was going to the gym.

Then went on to tell me about all the flavors they had that I couldn’t have.

He was mocking me, and boy did I call him out on it.

I finally realized after this conversation and him telling me the weather was too bad for me to walk to the gym at our apartments that he wants me to stay fat. My husband has fattened me up and that’s the way he wants me.

I love my husband, but this just won’t do. I really don’t want to die in my thirties.

So, if losing weight just isn’t enough, losing weight without the support of your spouse makes it monumental.

258.6

Yes, you see that right, I'm a fat girl willing to post her weight on the internet....yet not obviously with anything other than my shoes, which I'm sure many women my age have. Maybe I'm not all that willing after all. Maybe one day.

But really, who am I?

I'm thirty-one, married, and fat.

I didn't get fat over night, I got fat over marriage. I can't blame it on my children as I don't have any, or a medical problem because I have none of those that it could be contributed to either. (Although I do take Synthroid, but I don't blame my fat figure on that. I'm just fat.)

So, like many people I woke up one day and my legs hurt, my back hurt, my clothing size went from a twenty to a twenty-two, and I just couldn't take it any longer. I decided the only way something was going to get done about it was if I did it.

So I'm going to.

I weighed in today, and am going to post my weight every week. Truthfully, and even if it sucks a lot. I do this not because I think it will be an entertaining read, I need the encouragement, or want people to help me, but to make my self acutely aware of what those numbers are each and every week.

If you choose to join me, well the more the merrier. If you choose to ridicule me, fine. I'd rather it be me with tough skin than someone who is struggling with who she is. I can take it. All I ask is that you take it in return.

I'm also going to try to post websites that I'm using to help me along the way, and if you have any suggestions, please send those my way.

Be ready for blatant honesty (like the sores you get on your thighs...ladies, back me up here!) humor (of course a fat girl is going to say yes to cake, uh, hello?) and sometimes reality (what will I do if I really can't reach my toes one day?)