the one where I say I’m not skinny, and it’s gonna be ok
Sometimes I’m not funny. I apologize. If you struggle with weight or body image, please read on. If you don’t, please stop reading and email me immediately, I need to know your secret. If you’re just not interested come back tomorrow. We are going to talk about hair.
I used to blog over here. This is Blog to Lose, if you don’t know it, it’s a great site for weight loss support and I blogged almost daily there when I was losing weight a few years ago. I lost, in fact, 60 pounds over the course of about 7 months. (Reader’s Digest Version: I was depressed. I worked nights. I ate to stay awake. I got fat. I felt bad. I lost weight. The end. Well almost the end. Read on.) Anyway… not so much. I weigh about 10 pounds from the weight I was when I started that blog and my life isn’t the same.
I know it’s not that easy. Oh believe me. I knooooow. But here’s the thing.
You are the way you look.
But the way you look is not *you*.
I know this doesn’t apply to everyone. I also know that skinny people have body image issues too. I used to be one.
I’m on the left (the one on the right is my little sister. She’s 22, single and in grad school if anyone knows any nice guys). This was taken less than two years ago. I can give you a laundry list of things I don’t like about my body in that picture. (I’ll spare you, but use your imagination. If you’re a lady, you know the hot spots.)
Anyway now I’m not skinny.
And I could still give you a laundry list of things I’d change. (I’d put on a swimsuit if I thought it would illustrate my point better but I don’t have one. Also I apologize for the poor quality of this photo. I had the 15 year old snap it quickly, because it’s rare to get a photo of me without a baby attached.)
So, why am I smiling? (Besides the fact that it’s sunny and beautiful outside and I did yoga.)
I should be crying my eyes out right? Because I used to look like that other girl? And now I don’t.
Well I refuse. I will not cry over my thighs. Or butt. Or stomach.
See we went to the beach this last weekend and I sat in the sand with our sweet little baby, watching my Big Kids play in the surf and I people watched.
Mostly I just kept seeing girls in bikinis and thinking to myself, “Welp self. Your body is just never going to look like that again. Ever.”
And I was just a little sad.
Ok I was a lot sad.
But just for a minute.
I’m going to be honest… I was trying really hard to enjoy the sound of the ocean and the smell of the salty water (both things I big puffy pink heart) but I was intermittently thinking horrible things. I was imagining how my husband must surely find me hideous and wondering how many women on the beach he was looking at thinking he wished I looked like them. (He wasn’t. Just to clarify. He’s not that guy.) I was thinking about how it’s only going to get worse because I’m only getting older, and saggier. I was thinking about having another baby and what that might do to my body. I was thinking I’d never ever wear a swimsuit again. Ever. Never.
I wasn’t having a very good day emotionally speaking. I’m blaming PMS.
I was sad. Also PMS.
(Also I wanted a chocolate bar. Bad.)
Then I was sad that I was sad, and sad that I was sad that I was sad. Did you get all that? And I talked to the Man about it. Because that’s what I do. And he did like he does. He told me he loved me and that he wanted me to be healthy and happy and not worried about the scale. Or my stretch marks. Or my pants size. Or. Or. Or. He told me I am beautiful and he loves my body the way it is. Round. Shapely. Soft. Curvy. And I thought, why can’t I love myself this way too? Or any way I am? Oh this makes me mad at myself. Just mad. MAD. And so I consciously decide to I love myself. Yay. I’m smart. I’m beautiful. I’m a good person. Phew.
(Then something happens to make me critical (pick ANYthing) and thus begins the cycle again.)
But you see it’s not about being skinny or fat (or whatever), it’s just about loving who you are, how you are. However you are.
It’s gonna be ok.
You look how you are.
But you are not how you look.