The "D" Word.

Yeah.  The “D” word.  Go ahead – guess which one it is.

Dresses?  Dorky?  Does she mean a swear word?  No, dumby…  Oh -that’s a D-word, too…

Dating.  I hate that word.  When I think of dating, I think of some awkward, lame thing you do for an evening with some person you’ve barely just met, and a bunch of annoying, stupid things and whatnot.  Do I sound like a bratty little teenager?  WELL – you don’t  date anyone properly for, like, 7 years and we’ll see how far you regress.  I haven’t been interested in anyone in a very, very, verylong time.  It’s partly because I just haven’t, but I’m also pretty sure it’s because I’ve been pulling an ostrich, too. 

The idea of "dating" makes me about as comfortable as this video's business-man-by-day-wild-man-by-night, Maurice, and scrawny-wouldn't-have-made-it-as-a-viking Fred.  For lots of reasons.

Before you lose weight, it’s very easy to think, “Gee, golly – when I lose weight, I’ll be one pretty desirable hepcat!  It’ll be so much easier then!  Everything will just magically work out because I’m thinner – HOORAY!”

Well, I very well may be one desirable hepcat.  But this is another side of me I've kept safely hidden behind my steadily deteriorating wall of flubber.  Like many other things I've talked with you guys about, getting back in touch with it causes more of that annoying but liberating self-realization/growth nonsense.  I really am a pro at keeping things away that might hurt my heart.

I’ve never been one of those girls who embraced their size.  There are plenty of beautiful, strong, fantastic women who have.  I have never been comfortable with my physical body.  I’ve always known how to dress well – hide the funny bits and flatter the good ones…  I’ve never been shy, and I’ve always liked the things that are intrinsically me.  At times, I've thought that my personality and "coolness" were great enough to help people overlook my physical shortcomings, but I don't think I've ever really felt that it's possible for me to find love without fixing my exterior. 

Actually, what I really thought was that there was no way I would be able to meet someone great. I would either have to be single, or put up with someone gross enough to settle for me.  So, I’d rather be alone. 

Do I feel this way about people other people?  No.  Do we all say horrible, awful things to ourselves that we would never say to another person?  Abso-freaking-lutely.  The thought of someone saying things like that to a person I care about gives me the instant urge to cause them physical pain.  A couple of times.  But, somehow, it is always perfectly acceptable when trying to fairly, realistically analyze myself. 

So, I suppose I was right.  My exterior did have to change, but not for the destructive reasons I'd convinced myself of, and not to make me worthy of love.  Things at my core had to be shaken, rearranged, and sorted out so that I could be capable of accepting love should it happen to come my way.

So, when will it happen for me?  When will I finally meet someone again?

Who knows?  I look forward to it, but I don't care when.  For now, I am happy learning to love myself little by little.