I will be one month shy of 40 when I am a bridesmaid for what I imagine will be the last time. I have not had that much in my life—I’ve only had a handful of very close girlfriends, was never in a sorority, only have one female relative my age. So, I will wear a candy apple red floor-length gown on Independence Day and tie a bow on my bridesmaid days.
I received a package of dresses today to try on; it’s a neat alternative to schlepping to the bridal shop. I inputted my measurements and off they shipped. I really like one of the dresses a lot, and it’s very flattering. BUT. I am three days pre-period. I am puffy. Bloated. Larger than usual. I strained against that zipper and was careful not to bend over.
I hate the feeling. Immediately all the panic and anxiety and negativity came rushing back. I berated my image mentally, yelling at myself for not being more in control of my workouts and calories. For that minute in the mirror, I reverted way, way back.
But then, there’s this: day 80.