Saturday night Gary and I went to the wedding of two friends. The ceremony was beautiful, and the reception was a great time.
Instead of a dinner, they had a hot hors d'oeuvre selection, desserts and cake. Yikes. I did reasonably well, filling two small plates - the first with a few slices of cheese, 4 crackers, and two small dessert squares; the second with three dumplings, a mini samosa, some fruit, and a small pretzel bun with prime rib (like a mini burger or slider but SO MUCH BETTER). I thought I had chosen reasonably, and while I probably could have skipped the cheese, I didn't feel deprived. Even when I passed on the slices of pie (my favourite dessert) and wedding cupcakes.
But dealing with an open bar was a different story altogether.
In the course of the evening, I had two glasses of wine, two gin and tonics, and a malibu rum and pineapple juice. This really isn't a lot of liquor, over 6 hours - I wasn't in the least buzzed. But the calorie count! Oy vey!
I tried really hard to enjoy myself and not think of it as depriving myself of anything. I skipped the midnight lunch of deep dish pizza, telling myself that it really wouldn't sit well with the booze and that would kill my urge to dance. I tried to remind myself that I wasn't there for the food, I was there to spend time celebrating with friends. I tried to stay positive, and not obsess.
I'd say I did pretty well not obsessing. Obviously I remember every single thing I ate, but that's more of an ingrained habit by this point.
I felt healthy, satisfied, and I felt good about the choices I made.
On the other hand, when I compared myself to the other women at the party - the ones in the stunning, tight dresses with the cute hair and shoes, the ones who didn't seem concerned about eating pizza or having another cocktail, or concerned that they were going to pop out of/burst a seam in their dresses while dancing...I felt not so hot about myself.
How do you stop comparing yourself to others? This is something I really need to work on - I felt cute when we left our apartment, but by the time we got home I felt frumpy. I'm sure I was still cute...but I don't have any photos to prove it - hiding from the camera is something I've gotten very good at.