Are you going to judge me if I tell you that I find myself attractive? As in I actually like to look in mirrors and see my reflection. I like my face and my smile and my height and, most days, my hair.

I don’t mean this in an ‘I’m-super-vain’ kind of way. It’s not that I think I’m more attractive than everyone else or that other people aren’t as beautiful (or more beautiful) than me. Because let’s be real…there are some super hot people out there (Like Kate Middleton. Her smile gets me EVERY time.). It’s just that I think I’m pretty and, like most people, I like staring at pretty things.

Where I’m going with this is that I like my body and for the most part I’ve always liked my body. Of course there have been some ups and down.

(I was a totally awkward child. Wayyy to skinny/lanky and I had HUGE feet. It was really unnatural.

And who casually sits on a fake pig in their backyard? That might tell you more about my growing pains than anything else)

Pig-picture notwithstanding, for the past 20 years give or take, most of the time when I look in the mirror I am happy with what I see looking back at me.

And then something happened.

And it became time for a lifestyle change.

---

It all started one night at dinner with my parents. Andy was out of town and I texted my parents asking if they wanted to be friends (aka get dinner with me because I’m really bad at being along). We met up at Firenza, a super cool pizza place in Manchester Lakes.

**Side note** You should TOTES try this place out if you haven’t because I’m slightly in love. Personal pizzas with ANYTHING you want on them for $7.99. You cannot beat it! Just look at this amazingness!!! 

While we ate, I asked my parents how their weekend was. My parents mentioned that they went to brunch with some of their high school friends on Sunday. We started talking about how so-and-so was doing and how so-and-so’s kid was doing, ya know, all that good family stuff. I asked them if they talked about me (being the middle child, of course I have to make sure I was not forgotten in between the more exciting adventures of my siblings). My parents assured me they told their friends about me and  Andy and how we bought a house, etc. My mom then mentioned that she showed everyone a picture of me and Andy.

(Really pay attention here…this is the life-changing part)

Obviously, I wanted to know what picture it was. My mom pulled up her phone and showed me a recent picture she had taken of me and Andy at a wedding we went to. Now, imagine my surprise when I looked at this picture and apparently found out for the first time I was four months pregnant.

I am not joking. I actually look four months pregnant.

I know you’re thinking that I must be exaggerating. Normally, you’re probably right because I do tend to exaggerate (yeah you all know that girl who claims she fails every exam and actually ends up with an A). But this time, I promise I’m not kidding. Take a look yourself.

 

 

DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN?!?!?! SINCE WHEN DO I HAVE A BABY GROWING INSIDE OF ME?!?! HELLLLOOOOO…WAS ANYONE PLANNING ON TELLING ME??

Well, the sad truth is that no one was planning on telling me about the baby because there is no baby. That is actually just my stomach. And no, I’m not secretly pregnant. Please trust me on that.

This picture is so bad that when my dad saw it, his first words were “wow, aren’t you scared about that getting around? I mean if people see that, there’s no way they won’t think there’s a kid on the way.”

My friends had similar reactions, although they did give me the benefit of the doubt:

• Friend 1: “When in the night did you take the picture? Maybe it’s just a food/beer baby.”
• Friend 2: “Yeah that’s an awkward angle”
• Friend 3: “I’m proud of you! It’s a sign you’ve enjoyed your summer!”

And of course my favorites…

• Sister: “So you’re pregnant? Why didn’t you tell me?”
• Boyfriend: “What the effffff!?”

I know what you’re thinking. I really do. “It’s just one picture, stop freaking out. You’re not actually fat.”

I totally agree with you. I know it’s just one picture and I know I’m not fat. But the truth is that I have a stomach that I didn’t used to have. And it’s not just about the weight. I lead a mostly sedentary life in front of my computer or on my couch. I don’t exercise like I should or I want to. And I eat with zero cares in the world.

Ice cream? Count me in! Krispy Kreme? Of course. Beer? Duh. Cider? Is that even a question?

I have the worst sweet tooth in the world and I don’t even try to control it. Instead I indulge it, don’t bother to exercise and just pray that the good genetics that have got me this far in life continue to hold true. Well, I think the Genetic God is telling me to woman up and start taking care of my body.

Honestly, I’m tired of drinking all the time and wasting away my weekend. I’m tired of feeling like shit about my body because I put shit into my body. I’m tired of not being able to run or life weights because I don’t even remember how to exercise anymore.

I was complaining to Andy after the pizza incident and being the amazing guy he is he said, “Well you’re still hot to me, but we can’t have you feeling insecure about your body, so I guess we can start working out and eating healthy.”

(Can I please take this moment to pause and say that before Andy met me, he was a total healthy eater and gym junkie. He had more abs than I have fingers and I absolutely, 100% corrupted him and brought him to the bad side. Sometimes I feel kind of guilty about it. Mostly not thought. haha)

So here we are. Andy and I have made a commitment for the next two months to work out consistently and eat healthy. We took before pictures (which will never be shown until the after pictures are ready 🙂 ). Andy has made me promise that I won’t cheat. And thus, our journey to change our lifestyle begins.

Now, I promise you I am not going to be one of those people that starts blogging their every meal or takes pictures of them working out. 1) I don’t have time for that nonsense and 2) You shouldn’t have time to read that nonsense.

So…why am I doing this then? What is the point of me blogging about our so-called “lifestyle change”?

Honestly? I’m scared. I’m scared I’m going to fail. I’m scared I won’t make it. I’m scared Andy will kill it and I’ll be exactly where I started. I’m an extremely confident person and I don’t know if I can do it. And that, really truly scares me.

So I’m blogging to try and hold me accountable. Wish me luck. 🙂