Mentally, that fat girl is still there poking fun at me.  Sometimes it's hard for my brain to digest the fact that my boobs (which even when I was fat were a small C cup) actually stick out farther than my stomach does now.  It's completely wild for me to see collar bones, or the tendons in my neck, hands and feet.  It amazes me to see that I actually have slender fingers.

It makes me feel normal.  I've never felt normal.

Things are so different for me today than they were one year ago.  I can sit on the bus and instead of spilling over into the seat next to me having to sit with one cheek on the seat and one cheek hanging in the aisle, now I don't even take up an entire seat.  I can walk the six blocks from the bus stop to work without getting winded.  In fact, I don't feel the strain at all - it almost feels as if I'm floating.  I don't feel as if I have to apologize to people for taking up more than my allotted space on the sidewalk, elevator or bus.  I can go up the stairs in my house without feeling as if I'm going to pass out.  When I go to the gym, I no longer feel as if everyone is staring at me wondering what in the heck the fat chick is doing there.  I'm no longer the largest person in the room.  I'm smaller than my husband.  I have bones and muscles.  I have self-confidence.

When I set out on this journey in April of 2009, I honestly felt deep down that even this wasn't going to work.  I was doomed to be fat - destined to be ridiculed, to be sick, to die young.  Now, even with all the possibilities that lie ahead of me, what feels best now is feeling NORMAL.

Over the weekend, my mom had asked me what I wanted for Christmas, and I told her that she didn't have to give me anything - we'd like to keep our Christmas spending to the children this year - which is still expensive seeing that we have eight grandchildren and a brand new great nephew that I lump in with the grandkids.  But she said she'd already gotten my sister something, and felt it was only fair.  I told her I honestly didn't need or want anything, but I'd think about it.    So two nights ago, she called me and with great pride said she'd figured out what she was going to give me for Christmas this year.  $100 to spend on a pair of "sexy" boots.  I had mentioned that I'd like to get a pair, since they never fit on my calves before.  She said she wanted me to pick them out, but that's what she wanted to give me.  Then, with a catch in her throat, she said that she was sorry that all my life I'd had to dress like an old woman.  I deserved to have some sexy things.

THIS is what normal feels like.  And it feels pretty darned amazing.