Prisoner of my Love Handles......

I'm breaking out. Yet, sometimes I think I'll never be free. I may have found the key but I haven't figured out how to turn the latch. I'm working on it. But no matter how much I try, I'm still not sold on the fact that I'll ever really accept certain parts of my anatomy---my stomach, my hips, my backside--to name the top three. From what I understand...these are the areas called love handles. As far as I am concerned....the whole concept of that is completely disgusting. Please, please....don't think less of me because of my admission. Truly, I really am trying hard to love each womanly part of me. But, to be honest.....if those so called love handles were made for lovemaking, count me out. Honestly, the thought of having sex as my lover holds on to huge chunks of flesh just doesn't appeal to me. If that makes me a shallow person then so be it. Even if those lovehandles are cloaked in silk, satin or lace, I still won't like the visual of it all. It would surely kill the moment. No matter how many glasses of wine I had!!! Deposits of fat is just not my idea of anything worthy of a good romp. Maybe it's just me. As I'm unshackling myself from the grips of obesity, I'm coming to terms with many things that I never thought I would be able to. But I draw the line at flab. There's nothing sensual or comfortable about it. Fortunately, I've evolved enough to admit it. I've got love handles all over the place---my eyes, my hair, my face. Not my hips, my stomach or my ass. Enough said.