Not being one to dwell on the uncomfortable stuff, it would be easy to lose track of all of those little and big hurts that come with being chubtastic. It's particularly easy when you have a brain tumor. This is probably a good thing, for the most part. But I think maybe some of those comments and incidents linger in my subconscious anyway and it's probably beneficial to detox by jotting them down.

In February I went to New Orleans to visit Beth and Matt. My Bethums paid for me to have an hour and a half massage. *sigh* It was glorious. But midway through as the therapist worked on my hips, when I was at my most relaxed naked vulnerable, he exclaimed "Oh my God! You're tiny! I mean, you have a tiny little frame! Your weight makes you look so much bigger than you are."

Ouch.

This didn't devastate me the way it once would have, though. I mean, girlfriend was right (although he probably could have kept the observation to himself :/ ). Don't get me wrong – it stung. But I DO have a tiny little frame, and I HAVE accumulated a startling amount of weight on it. I gain weight evenly, hide it reasonably well, and am still active enough that I at least look like someone who was once fit. . . but at that point I was probably just a few pounds away from sliding out of "overweight" and into "obese." I'm really grateful that I was in a healthy enough place psychologically that this was a wake-up call rather than a suicide prompt.