I have the song about the dollar dollar bills y'all in my head this morning.
I am wearing pants that are pretty much the tightest ones I have ever worn to work. I imagine this is what it must feel like to wear leather pants, to have material hug your skin so closely. Mine are tan cordory, but it still is a weird feeling to be so aware of what I have on.
I talked a lot in therapy today about body image and how I see myself as a 18. I was a 26 and I still sort of saw myself as an 18. Somehow, 18 seems to be the mental picture I am most in touch with. I am trying to see myself as a 12. My therapist suggested putting up more full lenght mirrors, but I feel like that would be too much. One behind the closet door does it. On the other hand, the bathrooms at work are one-ers, and each has a nice full length mirror, and I end up spending an extra few minutes sort of looking myself over whenever I have to pee. It is kind of fun.
I also realize that I don't recognize myself in photos. I was like oh that's her and her and her and who the hell is that girl oh wait she's me. That is an odd feeling, but not necessarily a bad one.
The idea is to try to meld mind and body into one cohesive unit of Sass.
Work in progress as usual.