I've been kinda underground at the moment - mentally and spiritually I guess. I feel like such a fake - starting this blog off with all the best intentions of sharing my path to acceptance of my size and looks - and I can't even bear to write about it. I thought I'd better post something - to get me back in the swing of it...
I have just gotten back from a fab beach holiday - chasing the sunshine. I have never owned a bikini and each year wish that I could wear one; look at my flabby white belly and droopy bits and decide to cover up with the hugest t-shirt I can get and stay in the water all day - rushing out to get changed and not bother with the whole sand experience.
I bought myself several pairs of new togs - the new bikini type - but they meet - if you know what I mean.. well - its a step forward into that direction I am thinking. I also have some large floppy hats – very Audrey Hepburn – and several wraps – flimsy whimsical things. And I wore togs all day every day for two weeks. I put chunky jewelry on, lipstick and of course lots of sunscreen, and lay in deckchairs, on hammocks and hung out, drinking cocktails and being glamorous ( in my mind at least) and I don’t care what I actually looked like – I only took a scant few photos while I was there anyway.
The thing was – I felt beautiful; so why destroy the fantasy with a shot from reality?
