Turned 30 and I’ve started gaining weight. I know you’re probably thinking, “you skinny ass bitch, shuddup!” But I didnt say I was “fat,” I am just gaining weight. And normally I wouldn’t even care, but my pants certainly keep reminding me of the fact. And I’m starting to not like it. I don’t like having to think hard about what I eat, so as not to upset my pants. It all is taking up too much anxiety and thought space. Because I love food and I like to eat. I’m actually really good at it. And honestly, for me, food is alot more than just eating it. Food is an emotional experience. Food is a way to relate to the world. That’s deep thought though. I love food, I mean, I actually really love food. But reaching my 30s has changed that for me. Now it seems… I might need to start buying “mom jeans” to get my stomach to shape up.

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