In my excitement over yesterday's weigh-in, I failed to notice something.
Until a friend (thank you, JB), pointed out to me that when I shed those five pounds, I not only dropped into a new decade, I dropped a digit from my journey.
I haven't been able to talk actual numbers here. I just haven't wanted to share publicly what seemed like such an intimate (humiliating?) description of myself.
But, I'm tired of being ashamed. And I don't want to live in fear anymore that you won't like me if you have a number to label me with. Am I lovable enough at this size?
I want to love me. And I'm in a place right now where I feel like honesty is crucial to learning how to do that. So I'm going to put something out there that has always made me look away at the doctor's office. Caused me to make awkward jokes. Even made me so uncomfortable, I demanded my husband leave the room so that I could whisper it to the anesthesiologist.
It's a number.
And right now, it's 249.
99 away from a healthy goal of 150.