Getting my groove back

First of all, thanks to everyone who put in their 2 cents worth about my whether or not my Buddhism was putting people off our adoption profile. You're right. The right birth mother, the right child will make their way to us. During our home study I explained a great deal about my Buddhist practise and if our profile is chosen then the home study will be provided so more details will be provided. I want raise my child as a Buddhist but really, once they're old enough they can decide for themselves.

Second of all, a quick shout out to Teendoc. We had a real life phone chat. She rocks.

For what it's worth (FWIW - thanks Lori, I'm stealing that acronym), I think I know why I was so full of complaint and lethargy last week. People have really started noticing my weight loss and I'm really uncomfortable with it. And yes, I was embarrassed that I even had weight to lose to begin with. I think I had a number and/or size in my head (like what I weighed when I met my husband) and figured out that I shouldn't receive acknowledgement or kudos from myself or anyone else til I got there again. So I've been whining that nothing fits me instead of actually enjoying looking good. It's like I was starting to feel "visible" again and I didn't like it. Hence the desire for chips (i.e. unhealthy food) to shove those uncomfortable feelings away. I don't actually have any forbidden foods; it's the reasons behind wanting them that I need to pay attention to. The layers of protection I had put on were off and I felt vulnerable and exposed.

You know, when I was younger and single, I had no idea of how attractive I was. An old boyfriend commented that he found it amusing that I never seem to notice that I turned heads when I walked down the street. I had no idea of the power of my sexuality. I rarely dressed provocatively (unless I was prepared to do a lot of drinking). I was no shrinking violet, but even if I had chased boys, I would have had no idea of what to do with them once I caught them. True enough, part of the reason was that as a black girl growing up in a predominantly white society, my ethnic looks were never acknowledged or celebrated. Even within my own race, I didn't have the right skin tone, the "right" hair. I was used to being brushed aside for my white counterparts, particularly by black men. I was smart, I was "cute", always the "good" girl. Always waiting to be picked, never had the nerve to do the picking. Of course, a great deal is also the proverbial "daddy" issues. I started to figure it out in my 30s. Not distracted by pesky attachments, I just started to get the hang of "dating". I had just moved to a new city and lo and behold, I was actually getting some attention. From all the wrong types, but hey, I had to start somewhere. I started to realize that I could indeed do the picking, I didn't deserve to be stood up or treated like an afterthought. And don't you know it, the minute Stella started getting her groove back, I met the man I would marry. Better late than never.

Anyways, I digress. I finally decided to ease up on myself and I need to learn to just say thank you for noticing and leave it at that. So dear hubby gave me some shopping money and I bought 3 pairs of pants. I even bought one that was 3 sizes smaller than I'm used to.

Hah! I'm worth it.