'I'm fat and horrible!'
'No, you're not,' says Husband. 'You're gorgeous and sexy.'
Whom to believe? Me or Husband.
Obviously I want to believe Husband but then I look in the mirror or grab a handful of belly flab and groan again, 'No, I'm not gorgeous!'
Husband loves me just the way I am, however that is. I love me when I'm slim and confident. Yet sometimes I can feel good just as I am. And then I'll say, 'Blow it! Let's eat cake.'
But then by bedtime or maybe sooner I'm berating myself for my weakness and I am returned to the pit of self-... hatred is too strong a word - imagine me looking down my nose at myself as I would at ... no, I hope I wouldn't look down my nose at anybody else (unless I'm being really honest when I'd say except maybe a contestant on Big Brother or something similar) the way I do at myself.
Why do I do this to myself? Is it primarily a woman thing? Getting all deep and meaningful, is it because my father didn't want to know me leaving me with a sense of not being good enough as I was?
More importantly how do I stop doing it? How do I find satisfaction with myself?
Answers on a postcard, please. Or in the Comments box.