You know you’re fat when your cat doesn’t think your belly is ‘stable ground’ enough for him to put is paw on it to lean down and get a drink of water.

(This is six-month-old Asimov in his harness, wandering around in all his bathwater-drinking glory.)

Heehee.

I’m back from the conference and feeling great. Cheeky, even. And thanks to dehydration during the conference, a full two kilos heavier than my last weigh in. Whoops! Not really. I’ve been sculling water like a champ since I got back, so I know that is where most of the gain has come from.

The conference was fabulous! I had so much fun. If you want to check out some brief conference notes, go here. Otherwise, I’m going to prattle on about it in regards to health here.

Going to this five day conference has left me more aware than ever how fat I am. This isn’t a bad thing! I promise. I’m sitting here with a smirk on my face.

See? Just took that. (How much am I so rocking the fringe?)

Anyway, yes. The conference left me with a new found awareness of just how fat I am, but this is so far from a bad thing. I became aware of my body not because I got easily puffed, struggled with walking all over the convention centre, got sick during or after the convention because none of that happened. Not one bit. In fact, my Mr. Healthy as a Horse husband is the one who spent the weekend sick. I’m still sitting her gobsmacked that I am completely healthy after the running around, late nights, so on and so forth.

As backward as it sounds, it is the lack of all those things happening that made me more aware of my physical body. I have realised that I am one of those healthy fat people. I’m doing well, get tired out only so much as my weight makes me do so rather than any weight associated illness makes it happen, I get sick less than my husband (this is a hell freezing over kind of event, people!) and I can keep up my energy at things like five day long conferences.

I’m fat… but I’m pretty sure the only reason I’m fat is me. (Work with me here…) There is no illness to blame. No injuries. No system malfunctions with the ol’ body. Just me. Me and my mental/emotional reasons for keeping the weight on.

For a long time, I didn’t want to lose weight (I realise, now that I look back) because weight made me feel safe. Being pretty was dangerous – or so I had convinced myself.

But after my recent quarter-life crisis and after this conference making me see that I have been holding onto this weight, I am now ready to move on. Life is amazing and I want to live it as a healthy, sexy woman. I’m tired of hiding and being safe. I am the woman who moved across the world with one bag and a laptop at twenty years old. I won’t let that be the most amazing moment of my life.

I can do anything. And so I shall.