Someone took this picture of me yesterday at church.
This is what I look like? Where did that moon face come from? Menopause and meds, mostly. And loving the fullness of life, which includes food.
How do I get used to this new me? I tell myself the people who love me don't care if I'm fat. They do care that I'm happy and healthy. I am happy, happier than ever before in my life.
And then I see a picture of me looking like this and the happy is traded in for horror and shame.
Healthy is mostly true, though I am afraid the ballooning weight will push me into diabetes. I try to care about that enough to trade enjoying life and food for avoiding potential future misery, but after decades of chronic illnesses that forced me to severely restrict my diet I want to savor the formerly forbidden foods, e.g., pizza!
And then I see this picture. And I go through my dresser and closet trying on clothes that fit last year but won't even zip up now. And I put off getting new ones because the whole fitting room ordeal is so demoralizing.
Does being mature and happy doom me to moon face? Can I get used to being this body? Will this body develop diabetes? Do I have to go back to strict dietary restrictions, deprive myself once again of pizza?
Can I love me when I look like this?
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