Curves

When I started this whole weight loss journey I had no conception of what I'd look like thin. I'd never been thin, and didn't know where the weight would come off. I had no idea what was underneath all those layers of fat. I never even really thought about it, part of me assumed that I'd never get there, and the other part of me realised that there was little I could do to spot reduce, and that the lard would come off wherever it felt like it.

It's stupid really. I wear a size 12, and I'm disappointed with my figure. I look at my body and wish that there were some curves there. Well, I wish that the curves that are there weren't, and that I had curves where I don't. If you see what I mean. I'd quite happily trade the remaining bulge of my stomach for at least a hint of tits or arse. I'd like to be able to keep jeans up without having to anchor them on with a belt. I'd like to be able to fill a top or a bra bigger than an A cup. I'd like to have a lovely feminine figure.

I do what I can with clothes. I'm learning what styles and shapes I need to wear to accentuate what I have. I try to get something that will pull my waist in, and I'm close to resorting to extra padding in the bra department. I'm getting there.

And I don't want to suggest that I'd go back to my excess, lard filled curves of last year. I'd rather be fit, thin and straight up and down than obese but curvy. But I never realised how many body hangups I could still have at this weight. I guess we women are never satisfied.