Beginning ...

Hokay so.

Last night I went clothes shopping. I needed a dress for my son's baptism that could double for my sister-in-law's wedding, and I was really low on clothes in general (more on that later), so The Husband gave me $300 we had saved, promised to take good care of the kiddos, and told me to go have fun.

Well.

It. Was. Miserable.

I always hate how big my arms look in photos, so, primed for two major photo-taking opportunities, I was determined to buy something with sleeves. Since it's the middle of May, Lane Bryant (my go-to for clothes, anywhere else is even more awful) was stocked with dozens of sleeveless and strapless options, with barely a sleeve in sight. I found three in the whole store. The first one was like a black muumuu, made me look like a giant (note to self: avoid maxis), and barely covered the top third of my arms. The second one was an ultra-conservative denim shirt dress that looked like a homeschooling advertizement (I was home schooled, loved being home schooled, refuse to look like I was home schooled.) The third one I had hopes for: beige linen, which I've always thought looked elegant, princess seams with a shirt collar and three-quarter-length sleeves. I could get a necklace or scarf to brighten it up and it would be very versatile.

No.

No, no, no.

I was a mountain of buttoned-up linen. This outfit said (humbly) "I am huge. Please make way."

I stood there, turning back and forth trying to convince myself that it wasn't so bad. Try it with be belt. Imagine it with a necklace. Maybe turquoise, you like turquoise. Adjust the gathers in the back. And then I realized,

"This dress is actively making me sadder, standing here. There's no way I'm buying this."

As I started trying to find a sleeveless-dress-and-shrug combo, trying on lots of different things, I started to realize something.

It was painful to look at myself.

The fat of my stomach hung in folds, my underarms swung back and forth, my hips were like shelves. My butt - it stuck out behind me, it was enormous. Somehow, I had been able to avoid seeing all this in day to day life, even when getting out of the shower. Sure, I knew I was overweight, but I avoided lingering on it. That night, in the changing room, there was no avoiding. I was huge. I felt gross. I was miserable.

I have tried lots of things, for about 30 seconds each. I can do anything for a few days but never anything longer than a week. I have not let anyone keep me accountable, because it was too embarrassing to ask. So now I am asking the internet world to help me stay accountable. I will blog regularly, being brutally honest about what I'm doing and eating. To start off, I'm not letting anyone I know in real life know about this, except for The Husband and maybe a (very) few friends. Maybe when I get some success I will be brave enough to tell people about this.

I am 265 pounds. I am not sure how much I need to lose, but it is probably between 70 and 100 pounds. I haven't figured out all my weight goals yet, but I know this:

I REFUSE TO BE FAT AT CHRISTMAS.