I've really started thinking about how sad it is that no matter what weight I was in those pictures, at the time I thought I was the most obese person on the planet. To me...weight equaled happiness. I couldn't enjoy Mexico because I had to wear a bathing suite. I couldn't enjoy the wedding because I knew people were talking about how much larger I was than I used to be. It goes on and on...I'm trying to realize this time that it's not all about the scale. I was just reading a post about how we let our history impact us and we hang on to what we "should be" or "have been." I guess I'm just now starting to realize that this journey is filled with much more than numbers on the scale. Who knew?



Thanks you guys 
