Ladies, ladies, ladies, if you switch to risqué bloomers you can have ICE CREAM.
I have been on a serious fitness push. My ass has hurt for weeks. And I so dream of a size 12, working my way down to a 14. I'm moving slowly in that direction.
I am not nearly as flexible as I used to be, and find yoga hard on my wrists, elbows and sometimes knees. I feel like an uncooperative tree branch when I do yoga - bending resistant.
Girls, I'm having trouble coping.
I'm trying a weekend away with WH - this weekend. I'm feeling sick about it. He is excited apparently (so says the MC). I know I don't have to go, but I said I would. I didn't expect these feelings.
I'm a curvy 6 foot proportionate tall woman with a bosom - I have some padding. He has been with 2 younger petite super fit women for the last 10 years. (god, saying that makes me want to puke and makes me question why I haven't shoved our marriage certificate up his ass). He hasn't seen me in any state of undress for years.
Not that I think I can touch him, or want to - I'm generally traumatized. I learned that when he went for erotic massages, they were both totally naked. It disgusts me, as does he when I think about it. I could not look at him for the rest of the night when he told me - literally looked the other way.
I am NOT comparable to the women he literally picked out of a calendar based on his preferences. I hate him for that. Logically, I know I should not feel shame, he should for being an outstanding liar and cheater. But.... I do. I'm ashamed of my size, my tummy... etc.
I have not had any nice feedback about my looks or my shape from him in literally 10 years. I found a notebook of his where he wrote that he was turned off by me. Of course, now he tells me I'm beautiful (he wants to stay married), but nothing out of his mouth feels real - he has lied too much.
( I Know I'm not ugly, hell, I was high school prom queen)
What the fuck was I thinking.
People have suggested that I stop MC, I haven't yet. She told me one-on-one if I don't let my WH come home on weekends, that the M is likely done.
I don't want him back, not yet, if ever. The very idea upsets me. This is pressure.
I yoyo back and forth between a bit of hope/need and anger/disgust.
I am afraid, afraid to stay and afraid to end it, afraid to be wrong, afraid to recommit, afraid of being unhappy for the rest of my life.
This is the very definition of a mindfuck. I want to go back to my objective, data collecting mode, this emotional stuff is too much.
And today 2 people asked me about my husband - I haven't told many people period, less at work. I don't want to be the topic for this months gossip train. Though one, I told without telling - if he was listening he may have figured it out.
Thanks for listening to me.
[This message edited by Tallgirl at 5:59 PM, August 14th (Wednesday)]