More Updates

My muscles ache. But the pain is good. I'll accept it. Pain is good. Shaking is good. It means your muscles are working. I get to weigh myself in six days. That better be good. I will say, that I have found my confidence level higher. I talk to more people, more strangers. Not like crazy woman, but I engage in more eye contact, I chat with more people at the gym. And I actually bought sweatpants that fit me this weekend. I'm not hiding behind baggy clothes (okay, so my t-shirt drawer needs a make-over). It's all good.

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Chris is coming for lunch this week. I know, I know. We'll just leave it at that. At this point, I'm in control of the situation and my emotions. At this point. He makes me feel good, he fills a void, even if its temporary. And the fact that he has sucked me in before -- I know the signs, I know how he operates -- and I can protect myself, I will protect myself.

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I made a decision about B (yes, the B sage continues). And it will seem trivial to all probably, but to me, it is symbolic and empowering. I'm not making cookies for him anymore. (okay, everyone laugh and giggle together). Seriously, he's the type of person who makes it so easy for people to want to cater to him, to take care of him, he'll even give some emotional attachment back, but he'll only go so far. Last week, he got a promotion. And I thought, I should make him cookies this weekend. Then he worked incredibly hard on the new website designs, putting in 15-hour days. Again, cookies seemed the obvious choice.

And then I had a shower moment, because I sometimes I really do my best thinking in the shower. He doesn't deserve the time and care that I would take to make him cookies. He's jerked me around, he's crossed the line, he hasn't followed through, whatever -- however you want to classify it. It's too easy for me to take care of men like this and settle for nothing in return. And I need to stop doing it.

And so while I may make cookies to bring into work for a group meeting, I will no longer be making B his own batch, his own care package, his favorite kind. In fact, I might purposedly not make snickerdoodles for work, ever again.