Lately, I’ve been told several times by different people that I’ve lost weight or that I happen to look especially nice that day (implicitly saying I usually look nice). To which I say this: thank you. Now there are a few theories at work here, one being that I look better because I am in process of shrinking; the appearance is collateral to weight loss. The other major theory is that I am mid-self-actualization, developing more self-esteem, which in turn leads to coincidental glow and shedding my disguise; the weight loss is collateral to the self-realization.
Yeah, I said collateral.
This is not a negative thing here, and I sure as heck don’t mean to take out any loans. But I wouldn’t be Valonna if I didn’t tweak words to my whim. And I admit that my money’s on the second theory. Whether it’s hopeful thinking or simple factoid, I think part of the work God’s done on me this year includes rendering my disguise (read: weight) a superfluity. ‘Cause I’ve gotta say, I’m really not trying. Yeah, I happen to be eating less, partially due to budgetary crises, but I’ve never before gotten sick to my stomach just because I ate something sugary. And that’s happened a lot lately. Weird. We’re talking someone whose sweet tooth can normally put other people into diabetic comas.
Something strange is happening to me. Basically, I’m coming to the realization that there will still be sweets tomorrow if I have none today. There will still be Haagen-Dazs even if I don’t buy the pint of peanut butter chocolate. Needless to say, this is not a cognitive epiphany I’ve reached but rather a psychological—or, for the more spiritually inclined, spiritual—one. Put bluntly, I simply don’t need that kind of sustenance. Instead, God sustains me through Himself, friends he provides for me, and good ol’ piece of mind.
Now, I promised myself not to exceed a page; therefore, to be continued.
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