My baby sister is getting married. She's 23 and is marrying her high school sweetheart. They're having an outdoor wedding in my hometown. It's going to be beautiful. It'll be the first time in years that most of my family will be together.
My daughter is going to be the flower girl. I'm so excited for her. She just turned four and has a tendency to be shy in front of strangers so I'm still not entirely convinced that she'll manage the walk down the aisle, but I can't wait for her to try. We haven't purchased her dress yet. She's been growing so fast lately and I want to make sure we don't have to make any last minute alterations because of a growth spurt! She's going to be beautiful.
I'm looking forward to it...sort of.
Most of me is dreading the middle of August. This day should be all about my sister (and to a lesser extent my daughter - for my husband and I, that is!) and all I can think about is how I'm going to be fat at this wedding and how I'm going to be ashamed to be seen in my hometown. Ten years and about 60 pounds ago I went to my brother's wedding. I thought I looked pretty good - until the pictures came back. Four years or so after that, I went to my sister-in-law's wedding. I took great care to find a nice dress so that I would fit in and on the night in question I thought I looked pretty nice. Until some old hag came up and told me that I looked like I'd gained a lot of weight since she'd seen me last.
When I think about the wedding and how embarrassed and ashamed I will be, it makes me want to cry. And eat. I wish I was a better writer so that I could explain.
My Thought Chain
7 years ago