Midnight epiphany

I was thinking over the day's events in bed, before sleep, as I usually do and I had an epiphany (one that will of course, lead me to lose sleep again and be tired at work tomorrow).

I was thinking about how every time I hook up with a guy I ask them questions. Mostly about exes and their history, etc, etc - but last weekend when I did it I was asking really probing questions. And I realized why, in a very concrete way.

I like him; he's good looking, funny, and we developed a witty banter - and most importantly I felt like I could tell him almost anything. So of course before I get close, I decide that I'm going to ask a million of these questions. I probed and did so rudely, particularly when I got drunk. I apologized but I really don't think that matters as much as realizing that I screwed myself. (Especially when I backed off when he went under the bra - I should have gone with the flow.) I screwed myself out of a friend, maybe more when I was ready (which I'm certainly not).

I called my ex over the weekend - Troy, my major ex from college whose heart I broke - and it felt so great to be comfortable and close and love that I started talking with Chris and made plans to hang out. Now I know that I won't get back together with Chris, because doing so would be a) extremely flaky b) damaging to Chris and c) a foolish decision altogether. But being with someone who can't hurt you (or shouldn't be able to) is all I want to do.

So despite my banter on "I choose me" I found out that I keep screwing myself by asking those questions because I don't know why these guys are choosing to hang out with me (and enjoying it). I don't understand. And I'm sure that ties into my weight issues, too, since self-esteem and body image always go hand-in-hand. But if realization is my first step, I'm well on my way.

Another epiphany of the night: a friend and I were having an argument over The Biggest Loser. She thinks its harder to lose weight when you're obese than when you're small (she constantly argues that I don't know what its like to be fat, whereas I think I do.... since I feel I was fat) and said that I was wrong - that losing 18% of my body weight was probably easier than what the contestants on the Biggest Loser do because they have to carry that weight, etc etc. Now I see her point, but what pissed me off so much was that she didn't RECOGNIZE that I had just as much emotional (and physical, because I do have lower muscular tone and as a result am not on par fitness-wise with most people) baggage to carry as the contestants did.

I was really pissed and then I vented, and then I realized (on the toilet, no less) that it really doesn't matter what anyone thinks of me but me. This may not be true for all things, but its true for my weight. And I'd like to side with me on this one: that I'm damn proud of looking damn hot.

And if anyone doesn't like it, fuck them. I have to say that this is the same friend who hates/detests the new Weight Watchers commercial - the one with Cher in the background. I love it because of the sentence about feeling like you're the fattest woman in the room. My sentiment is that you can feel that way whether you're a size 6 or a size 30. Because really, all that matters is what's inside you.

So fuck everyone else. Except the guy I hooked up with. Cuz that's not happening, since I want him to be my friend. (The jury is still out, but at least I won't ask questions anymore about how big of a manslut he is. Hopefully.)