In a lame effort to hide my fat, I bought and wore this dress, which my friends and I affectionately called the "moomoo."
The dress, while it didn't show and squeeze my fat rolls, did not hide the most important fact (at least not from myself): I was miserable being out of shape.
Since working for my "beachbody" (that's right, kids, I worked for it!), my ten dollar Moomoo has been sitting in my closet. Oddly enough, I had become attached to it. How could I not? It was one of the only few items I owned last summer that actually fit. Yea, it was One Size Fits All. But, since I vowed to never allow myself to get "like that" again, I thought my long, brown, shapeless dress had gone into permanent retirement.
Today, I grabbed for it when I had to run downstairs to pick up a package. My moomooo!! My dear and beloved Moomooo!!! She hadn't changed, but I had. It was, dare I say it, A Perfect Fit!
I realized so much had changed within the past year: my smile, my guns!, my fat rolls, my confidence, my life...ME!
Lately, I've been seeing a lot of people reach out for help, and a lot of people dust themselves off after falling off the wagon, maybe after multiple times. I'm not sure what today's blog entry is about, maybe it's about hope, maybe it's a declaration that change IS possible, that it IS a process, that it doesn't happen overnight, but that it does happen. Then, one day, you wake up, and your Moomoo fits just right.