As you'll no doubt recall, I've been waging (and winning) the war against being a tub o'lard. And I've been pleased with the results.
Except.
Yesterday, as I was walking from the shower to my bedroom, I caught a glance of myself in the mirror. Naked. And was less than thrilled with the image reflected back at me. I was never someone who thought the sight of my naked body was going to start setting hearts aflutter, even before the weight gain. I wasn't one of those people who insist on always having the lights off during sex or anything, but I wasn't super pleased by the way I looked. But I had hopes that with this change for the better, I'd be more impressed. And I'm not. Maybe I'm hoping for too much, or maybe the naked improvements will take longer than the clothed improvements. I hope that I'm not going to be paying for my weight issues forever while naked, that there is going to be a time when I feel good being unclothed, and that my body will get in line with all the work I'm doing.
Am I dreaming?
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