Well, that about sums up how I’ve been feeling, from the front. (Hi, Mom.)

And from the back:

Tellement Enorme.

Meet our car, which is also moi at this moment. Okay, so not really, but … I have been feeling pretty enorme myself. Ridiculous, I know. Yet, true statement. Where’s the self love all the new agers talk about? Not here.

I don’t know why, but sometimes I get into these funks about my body and literally will feel … hugely enormous. Wait. I take that back. The not knowing why part, not the feeling huge. It’s as simple as this: I was a fat kid.

Yes, me, a total fatty.

I still tell my parents that I can’t believe they didn’t have the sense to send me to fat kids camp. Then again, they were in denial, too. “You’re not fat, you’re big boned, sweetie.” Oh my god. Can you think of anything worse to say to a kid?! It reminds me of the South Park ep where Cartman says the same thing about himself. Mmm, I’ll have to dig that clip up.

Somehow you never shake that fat kid thing, it stays with you. But I think it’s time I at least give it a try … getting past it and letting that go. I always feel like there’s a mini fatty me every time I eat something, just waiting to ambush and sabotage me right as I’m feeling good and enjoying something, especially something sweet (think Nutella crepes).

I’ve finally gotten to the point where I’ve had it with the self talk. And I’m tired of being so hard on myself. I’d rather try to honor my self and be appreciative for all the things my body is able to do … like 300 + kettlebell swings. Not bad for a one time fatty, huh?