Tell me I look good and I’ll love you forever
I have a problem. It’s called food. I love it. I’m back on the PAY ATTENTION, STUPID method of watching what I eat. As of yesterday. This weekend was full of distractions. Anyway, I know what my scale is telling me (ugh), and I know what my mirror is telling me (eh). I’ll get there. In the meantime, I’ll take what validation I can get. I walked into my Kukuwa class last night, and this very nice woman (tiny, petite, adorable) came over to me and told me I looked slimmer. ! I love her. Meet my new best friend. (Sorry, Bridget.)
Flatter, as a verb, is kind of funny. And appropriate. Flatter is exactly what I want to be. In most places.