This whole weight loss thing has been really weird for me. It’s been a relatively slow process – and I’m 100% ok with that. I am healthy. I feel great. I stay +/- 2 pounds of a stable/decent enough for now weight with almost no effort.

I have moments here and there – like a week or so ago when I was taking pictures and feeling frustrated that I look as I did 16 pounds ago – but overall, my focus on my general appearance is pretty low. Sometimes my frustration with myself re: my lack of exercise translates to appearance stuff – but rarely, I think. It’s fleeting, anyway.

I’ve gotten a few body “shape” comments lately that have heightened my focus, though, and have forced me to think a little about how weird it is to have been this person not too long ago:

Sarah - Times Square - NYC

I don’t emotionally feel differently. At all.

The comments are of a nature that most women would likely find positive. Me? Surprise, maybe a little embarrassed, mostly uncomfortable. People don’t usually make complimentary body comments to the person above, right?

I’m starting to wonder if some of my disconnectedness re: my body (there is no doubt in my mind that I completely disconnected to wind up at 272 pounds) is still happening? I know I physically feel differently. I can absolutely create a list of things that are different – starting with my ability to jog up and down stairs at work all day and walk 3.5 mi with the dog as if I just took a stroll to the mailbox, etc. My entire lifestyle has fundamentally changed.

My appearance, though? I think that I still think of myself as that person above and am generally shocked when confronted with the reality that – PHYSICALLY – I’m not. Or something. I don’t know. Still working it out.

Thing is, I LIKE that person above – so it’s not a big deal – but something worth thinking about, for sure.

It’s just weird, in general, to be someone and be accustomed to the world as that person … and then be someone different to everyone else … but not be someone different.

Or maybe I AM someone different and I’m just not aware of it? Who knows.

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I’m reading a book (Parenting from the inside out: How a deeper self-understanding can help you raise children who thrive – Dan Siegel, MD and Mary Hartzell, M.Ed – which I totally recommend even if, like me, there are no kids being raised) that said something I really like:

When unresolved issues are writing our life story, we are not our own autobiographers; we are merely recorders of how the past continues, often without our awareness, to intrude upon our present experience and shape our future directions.

I think I’m going to start telling people the truth about how I lost weight: that I worked – and am working – like hell to be my own autobiographer.

Nobody says that. It’s all diets and exercise and healthy eating, blah, blah, blah. They’re a piece of the puzzle, for sure, but it’s so much more than that.

For me, anyway, and I suspect so for most others.

I’m in Knoxville – briefly – because Jon’s #3 child graduated from HS last night + there are carpet installers doing their thing in our former junk room/attic at this very moment.

From an autobiographical/narrative perspective – I like this part of my story. I don’t dislike MI AT ALL, but I really like the home I have here. This morning I sat on the porch with Jon next to me reading a book + the dog on my lap + coffee and felt very surely that this is where I belong at this point in my story.



I SO wish I could’ve taken pictures of our dinner last night, but it was so dark in the restaurant that I could barely see my food to eat it.

We went to Brazeiros (Brazilian steakhouse) for the 2nd time and had a fabulous time (again). Knoxville is sort of lacking restaurant-wise (when compared to Ann Arbor, for sure) – so I’m really glad this place opened. I hope it sticks around.

Edited to add: I forgot I could use the flash. Jon’s mom took pictures in the dark. He’s wearing her glasses (plus his own contacts) because he couldn’t see the receipt – so he’s pretending to smoke a pipe. (He likes to remind me that I married an “old man.”)

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Jon took his kids out to breakfast this morning while I hung out with the carpet guys, so I had my usual:

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Honestly – the thought of a big, greasy Cracker Barrel breakfast just doesn’t even appeal to me anymore (or more realistically, right now).

Not sure what the rest of the weekend holds. Ice cream, hopefully.