I'm sitting at my computer trying to catch my breath and soothe my aching legs from the walk that I just took when the dreaded word keeps floating around my brain...
Can I take the liberty to gripe just a bit about this issue? Isn't it something that plagues most women nearly all of their lives?
I say that but there is that rare breed of girl that seems to walk around unphased by the scale and perfectly content with the backside of her thighs. How does one become this woman? Can you truly change your perspective and convince yourself into the belief that we ARE more than our measurements?
I have to believe you can but if it's impossible then I'm doomed to days like today till the end of my time and I just can't deal with that.
I've always been an average sized women...not too big and not very small. My weight has always pretty much fallen right in the middle of what's normal for a person my height. (The major exception being months during and after pregnancy...whoa!) A few years ago "life" brought a pretty heavy amount of stress my way and I lost 40 pounds.
While I hated the constant stress...I loved being underweight for the first time in my life! If you haven't picked up a size zero in the store and didn't bother to try it on because you knew it would fit, you're missing one of the real joys in womanhood! Those genetically skinny girls don't know how great they got it! It was such a relief!
Now I freely admit, I looked terrible. No shape, gaunt face...I was the making of one of those less attractive contestants on America's Next Top Model! But, I could eat whatever I wanted and clothes in the smaller sizes are just so cute!
The ironic thing is that even at my smallest, my day was still controlled by the number on the scale. You know what they say about weighing yourself? "License to starve..license to eat!" With all the other chaos in my life, I could clearly see that my scale needed to go. I was verging into another life-dominating problem and I had all of those I could manage.
Four years later and I popped on the scale this morning...one of maybe five times in the past four years that I've weighed myself.
My problem is that I'm unashamedly happy right now. Virtually no stress. Very relaxed and frankly, I'm my father's daughter! We like to eat. Diet pills aren't even a temptation for me because I barely ever eat because I'm hungry.
I love food. I love to cook. I love having dinner parties. I love going out to eat. I love the whole experience...the drink with ice and the endless options...the rolls, the meat...desert! I love the fellowship and fun.
I know...I'm destined, right? This weight thing will always be an issue.
My question is-Can you enjoy food like I do AND be a good weight? Does it have to be a trade off? I fear that if it does I'm in trouble. My sister said once that "Nothing tastes as good as feeling thin feels!" but I'm on the fence with that...
Mexican food tastes r..e..a..l..l..y good!
So, I went against my belief system about gyms being the den of wickedness and I joined the YMCA again. Mostly it's for the kids to enjoy their programs this summer and I'm only going to lift weights. I've got my full coverage work out clothes ready in an attempt to divert disgusting men.
I'm also dieting. YUCK! Right now I only have ten pounds to drop and I guess I can give this a fair shot before it gets any worse. I have a really bad attitude about it so I'll need some encouragement from my sister Julie to..."Think positive!"
My husband ate 6 bazillion pieces of ooey-gooey pizza tonight and washed it down with a couple of brownies. He's lost 11 pounds since June 8th.
I want to hit him with something hard while he's not looking when I think about that!
Media has ruined it for us, ladies. Remember the paintings of those curvaceous naked women that reflected the ideal Victorian woman? What happened to that?
These are the questions that plagued me today as I geared up for self-denial. My carrot sticks and broccoli heads did not bring the answers.
Maybe you guys know?