Ok. I have to start somewhere.
As it says over there on the side -- of course these things change -- when I was born my mother struggled between two names. I got the other one.
Most of my life I have been glad that I landed where I did. But in the more recent past I have longed to be Claire. The Claire in my mind is an ethereal pale tall slim creature with long fingers. She ages well, with a pronounced sense of personal style. She has a quiet grace, punctuated by occasional humor.
I am not that person. I am short and fat and older than death. I don't appear to have much subtlety (a trick to throw folks off track) and can't wear stylish clothes to save my life. They don't design stylish clothes for 260 pounds and 5'2". And, as I said, older than death.
I'm sick to death of feeling clunky and inelegant. But apparently not sick enough to fix it. Gee, I've lost 6 pounds in the last six months. Aren't you impressed? I'm disgusted. But there is that teeny voice that says "Losing 6 pounds is a whole lot better than gaining 6 pounds." While true, that isn't saying much.
It is the dead of winter but the days are finally getting longer. I'm giving this place a shot. Maybe talking about it here will help, give me a little distance and more focus at the same time. And if you drop by, whoever you are, you are welcome.
Starting Weight back in October: 268
(It was a while back but I'm taking credit for every ounce I remove.)