I love food. No, I really love food. Any food. All food. Well, except mushrooms. Oreos and Diet Coke for breakfast? Yes, please. 2 glasses of wine during and after dinner? Yup! A mountain of spaghetti? Right here. I love going out to eat, I love eating, and I love cooking and baking. I tend to overeat. I eat when I'm stressed, when I'm sad, and when I'm happy! Yes, I eat my feelings, Mr. Psychoanalyzer-er. I have an unfortunately loooong 2 week PMS where I can't get enough carbs, sugar, and yummy goodness.
It comes as no surprise, then, that I struggle to keep my weight down where I would like it to be. I used to tell myself that I had "curves." But then I looked at my naked body and I could find nothing I liked. Even my tiny ankles were starting to swell, the dimples on my butt could hide a quarter, and my thighs looked like small children were still clinging tightly to them.....under my skin. I felt in no way, shape, or form "curvy" or sexy. I wasn't obese, but I was overweight. And for my 5'4", an extra 20 pounds is alot...especially when it concentrates in one general area. I didn't like feeling squeezed into clothes, and I didn't like the size on the clothes I had to buy.
I felt OUT of shape, and OUT of form, and I was so unfit that my muscles were weak. It was absolute work carrying my beefy son upstairs. (side note: how come baby pudge is so cute, but mamma pudge is not?) I was tired and winded. I was jealous of friends on FB posting about running and working out. I wanted to be fit, too! I wanted to be a young, skinny mom!
I'm not saying curvy isn't beautiful. Most women, no matter their size are curvy. It's biological, people. I know many different sizes of women who are comfortable in their skin. I just wasn't comfortable in mine. And that's what its all about. It doesn't matter if you're a size 2 or a 22, all women can feel insecure and uncomfortable. I felt like an athletic girl trapped under a snowdrift of PB cups, oreos, sweet tea, and stuffed crust pizza. But I've been working hard to change that. I started out walking. Then a mild jog. I'd come home with sweat spots so bad it looked like I wet my pants. Like I got a "runner's thrill" if you know what I mean..HA! Then I was jogging faster, then running. I took up paddleboarding, and biking. I tried rollerblading, and hated it, so put the money towards an even better bike. It's taking a LONG time, but the pants sizes are going down. I've only lost 4 pounds in almost 3 months, but maybe I'm growing some major ass-kicking muscles....
I admit, in the beginning, I just wanted to be skinny. Along my run, I'd daydream about fitting into a certain dress, or a pair of Paige jeans. I wanted to be hot for my husband. But somewhere along the road, somewhere between mile 50 and 75, my perspective changed. Now, I want to be fit. I just want to be in shape. I want to be athletic. I want to be strong! And that to me means more than fitting into a certain size. I used to yearn to have the physique of a Victoria's Secret model. Now, I want to look like the strong women in the Altheta catalogue. Powering that bike up the hill with 70 pounds of kid in tow feels awesome. When I reach the top, I gain a fresh perspective on the day. Burned the dinner? Psssh. Bad hair day? Oh well. Baby teething? Oh, he's sleeping in the trailer behind me- and look how sweet and peaceful he looks leaning on his sister.
It just makes the day go so much better when I can whirr those pedals as fast as my legs can go. And I don't feel so guilty about sometimes making unwise food choices because I know I will burn most of it off anyway. I eat what I want, because if I went on some restrictive diet, I get so crazy-irritable, no one wants to be around me :) I don't need to be a certain size or weight anymore. I'm still curvy, and always will be. But now I can race my kids- and WIN! I have energy to spare, and my omni-present depression stays at bay a little better, because the more I can do, the better I feel, and I'm looking better too, which helps all that self esteem, which in turn makes me feel like I can do anything.
I still slip, and call myself "fat" sometimes. It's a product of the wonderful world in which we live. We are brainwashed from a very young age. Sexy slim people sell everything from fast food to furniture to vacuums, and we all have access to the best food anytime, anywhere. Celebrities are expected to lose their baby weight months after having their babies, wives are expected to be "hot" and sexy even while taking care of the demanding needs of a young family, the anti-aging market is booming, and the diets just get crazier every day. People talk about the obesity epidemic, but what about the anorexia epidemic? It's almost impossible to know what's healthy anymore. It's all messed up. It's hard to find a balance between taking care of yourself and getting carried away as a mother, and even harder to teach that balance to your daughter.
I'm doing my best to teach my 4 daughters the values of honesty, kindness, compassion, virtue, and taking good care of the body they were given.
And all that is so much more than a dress size.
