I truly do not understand why my husband loves me sometimes, but he does. Thankfully.
On Saturday, I told hubby that I was going to hop on the treadmill to get my walk in while the baby was napping and he encouraged me to go take a walk outside instead because it was beautiful out. I took his suggestion and off I went.
Shortly after I walked by the window I received this text from him:
It made me smile and it got me thinking.
This is how I was feeling: Fat. Disgusting. Gross. Bloated. Like a teenager with an acne breakout. A hot mess. Jiggly. Exhausted. Hair flying every which way. Too big for my clothes. Largest butt on earth.
But yet he still wanted to tell me he found me attractive. I am pretty lucky to have a man who loves me that much. Now I need to love me that much.
Hubby has seen me at my worst (which is pretty much right now) and he has seen me at my best—but he loves me and he tells me he thinks I am attractive no matter what size I am.
And when I am feeling my worst, I don’t believe him. I can’t comprehend how he could possibly see beauty in me when I feel so ugly and fat. But then I realized that he never stops giving me compliments—the man really means it.
He’s probably blinded by love or something, but still—that’s unconditional love and I am thankful for it with every ounce, every single extra one of them, of who I am.
