A Little Whine

I want to whine, and I don’t want to whine to myself.

I hate my hair and I think I’ve definitely gained weight–my face looks fatter in pictures.

And as soon as I write that, as soon as I attempt to launch myself into “waaahhhh” mode, a sane, sensible voice says, “Oh, stop. You’re fine,” and a sense that this is where I am, in a place where what I weigh isn’t something I need to be happy or unhappy about, grounds me. My eating is mostly under control. I have bad days, but I eat to allow for them, because I know I’ll have them. That takes a lot of the pressure off, all around. My exercise schedule is settling down, after some fairly maddening struggles. Even when I have bad weeks, it’s okay. I’m back in the place where I recognize that this is my whole life, the whole journey, not some crazy race where if I don’t achieve X by Y date, I’ve failed.

As for my hair, I love the color, but I’m not loving the cut. That’s not dissing my hairdresser–I picked the cut. It’s a fairly blunt cut semi-bob, and I suspect my hair’s too thick for it. So I’m thinking about cutting it again, into a kind of wedge-ish thing, something I had a couple of years ago and really loved. This, in fact:

It’s easy and fun, and I kind of miss it.

We’ll see.

At least I love the color (which is different than when I had the above picture taken).

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