Eyes open.

My wedding dress came in last week, so I finally went and tried it on this morning. I was really not feeling so hot up to the appointment, as I’ve been eating like shit (and b/p-ing) and not exercising this week. But then I got there and tried on the dress and I felt beautiful. I looked tiny and lovely and kind of like a princess. I was looking in the store mirror and I couldn’t believe how little my waist looked. My collarbones were popping out on my shoulders, and even my arms seemed less jiggly. Of course, I could still feel the fat underneath the dress, but I had a moment where I was actually happy with my appearance.

Maybe it was seeing myself in a different light, or a different mirror – I get so used to just seeing all my problem areas in my bathroom or bedroom mirrors that perhaps the change in scenery allowed me to see the whole picture. Or maybe it was the dress, with its corseted waist and clever fabric alignment – and honestly, who doesn’t look pretty in a wedding dress? Or maybe – just maybe – I’m not the gross beast I think I am after all. Maybe.

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