I am down over 100lbs and have at least 120lbs+ to go. I am going to look like a nightmare of of hanging flesh. Yeah yeah yeah my improved health etc. But my decreased risk of heart disease is honestly cold comfort in my cold empty bed. I don’t wanna hear about my health or how The Right Guy will think I’m beautiful even if i look like a melted candle and feel like a weird pile of jello flesh to the touch. Never in a billion years would I fault someone for having too much self respect to want a piece of this.
Can we be real and say that with extreme weight loss (200lbs+), the before and after are pretty equally unattractive with clothes off?
I am not gonna stop, I feel too physically good to stop. But I don’t have breasts. I have man boobs that morph into back fat and I look fine in a bra but like I think the best sex I’ll get is that “I probably can’t get anyone better so let me shut my eyes tight, ball my hands into fists, and try to finish quickly” type thing.
It will take 10s of thousands, if not more, for me to resemble the silhouette of a normal person and not have miserable, chafing, flapping, painful, rashy skin hanging off me like a long underwear 6 sizes too big. That will be years from now IF I can pay for it. I am already 30. I can already see looseness replacing fatness.
I have a decent face. In a different world, without childhood trauma and eating disorders and fat acceptance and severe depression, I may have found love.
End rant.
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