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.


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