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Today, I gained two tenths of a pound more.  I have to lose almost ten pounds to make my goal weight.  I understand that I need to follow the plan if I want to lose the weight, but it's difficult to convince my more emotional parts that the weight-loss is more important than feeding my face in order to feel better and that I need to find better, more constructive ways to deal with my stronger, more destructive emotions.  The trouble is that I really do want to lose the weight.  I really want to be in a position where I can put on my wedding dress and find that it's baggy on me.  My husband is cool, all he wants is the woman he married, but I want to be able to look into the mirror and see the person that I see in my mind when I'm not looking in the mirror.  Anyway, the person I'm really losing weight for isn't my husband, it's me!  I'm losing weight to escape the onus of type two diabetes that runs in my family.  I'm losing weight to be able to move and run and have fun with my kids.  I'm losing weight so that I can better enjoy private time with my husband.  Most importantly, though, I'm losing weight because I'm tired of being fat and not feeling fat; I want the two to be the same.  So, from this moment, I am going to follow the plan and keep track and move more and eat smart and all those other things they keep telling us in Weight Watchers that we need to do.  I'm going to reach 155-160 pounds, because that's where I want to be.

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