Dreaded Question

Of the five questions men most hate to hear (loosely based on a this article...) I probably ask my husband "What are you thinking?" and "Do you love me?" on a fairly regular basis.

He's a pretty typical guy, except for the fact that "Football" would never be an answer to "What are you thinking?" For Thomas, it runs more along the lines of "Stupid work stuff/stupid raid stuff/random observations about science fiction television/theoretical physics..."

I don't usually ask anyone the question "Do I look fat in this?"

The closest I usually get to the question is "Do I look OK?" By OK, I generally mean "Does this cover all the requisite bits of me, is it formal or informal enough for the event, is my fly open, and do I need to comb my hair again?"

I have always known the answer to "Do these jeans make me look fat?"

"Honey, it's not the jeans."

Wince.

Just because I knew it didn't mean I ever wanted to hear it from someone. I already knew I was fat. I didn't particularly have a need to make someone I liked repeat it for me.

The problem is, I think my eyes are broken. I know I've talked about this before, but it seems to be a real problem for me, and I can't get my brain aligned.

Thomas talks about his mental woah moments... "I walk by a store window and I have to stop and stare at that skinny guy in the reflection."

I still walk past reflective store windows with my eyes downcast.

I've had woah moments, don't get me wrong. The first time Thomas and I passed each other in the hallway without one or both of us unconsciously turning sideways to allow us both to fit though... when I noticed the car steering wheel didn't need to be adjusted to allow me to fit behind the wheel... but they've never had anything to do with pictures, or reflections.

I'm ok, if I can compare myself to a space I didn't used to be able to occupy, or comparing my required Fat Girl pants to my current pants (I think it's mandatory, by law, that you have to save something from your Fat Days... mine are a pair of red capris, size 24) or looking down while I'm folding laundry and thinking "I fit in that shirt??"

But as soon as I see myself in the mirror, or a picture, I'm like "God, I look like a freaking beached whale!"

I really do think my brain is broken. I mean, I'm wearing size 7 jeans, and they're too big for me. (I should have gotten the 6s.) So, just recently, I've started asking a few, select people that question.

I'm still not getting answers that I'm happy with.

"You look thin-er."

Which is to say, you were such a disgusting pork before, and now you're slightly smaller than a freight train... but it's progress, right?

"Well, I don't know, really. I mean, your body type is so different from mine..."

I thought that was a really interesting way to avoid answering me with "No, actually, you do look fat."

I'm honestly getting a bit tired of this whole lifestyle change thing... My average weight loss for this year has been dropping steadily... it took me a year to lose 65 pounds, and it's going to take at least another whole year to get rid of 20 pounds. Somehow, that just doesn't seem fair.

The last twenty pounds is the hardest.

Unless, of course, you're my skinny-ass husband who had his last 20 pounds drop off in a whopping 4 weeks, and then lost another 12 pounds while he was at it.

Bastard.