Image Not fat, not pregnant (now there’d be a miracle for you!), just “fluffy.”

For whatever reason, the result is the same. I am “fluffier” than a Dolly Parton wig at the moment. The “fluff” is relatively proportional, so with a careful eye to presentation and carriage, (my mother and sister taught me well on that) I can look less fluffy than I actually am. But *I* know better. I would feel better with less fluff – which, unfortunately, is heavier than Dolly’s wig. Her hair is puffed with air while I am puffed with (ahem) substance.

I am less obsessed about my weight now that I am in the “mature woman” stage of life. It has truly (finally!) sunk in that the number on the scale is not who I am. It is a number. That does not mean I am complaisant about it. Just not nutzo – the definition of which depends on which side of the bathroom door you are on, I know!

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