I (and women in general, I believe) spend way too much time wondering if I’m thin enough. I don’t obsess over it anymore (been there, done that) but I can’t remember a time when I didn’t think to myself, “If only I could lose ___ pounds.” I woke up this morning thinking that exact thing and I almost burst into tears. What is it about weight that is so important? If you’re healthy, why does it matter? Who decided that skinny as hell should be the norm, the preference? Not me. I don’t ever look at another woman and think, “She needs to lose weight.” Really, I don’t. I only feel that way about myself.
I look at photos of myself from high school. I thought I was fat then! I weighed well under 100 pounds at 5′4″ and that isn’t even healthy. Now I think about my teenage self and I just want to be able to go back and tell her, “You’re good enough. Just the way you are. Eat, for crying out loud!” I wish I had appreciated my thinness then.
Then after I had my son, I felt like I should lose weight again. Because I gained 20 pounds with that pregnancy that I NEVER lost. I couldn’t without reverting to old (extremely bad) habits. And anyway, that put me at the low end of the healthy range. But, as always, I wished I was thinner.
Then I had my daughter. I still have 10 pounds from that pregnancy. That I probably won’t ever lose. And you know what? I’m just starting to not care. Because I realized something. Every time (every SMUCKING time, to quote Lisey) I gain a little weight I look at old (not that old) photos of myself and think, “I wish I’d known then what I know now and had appreciated that body more!”
This time? I’m going to try awful hard to appreciate it NOW. Because 5 years in the future, you know what I will be thinking? I’ll be thinking, “Gee, I wish I had appreciated my body when I was 25.” So.
This is my stomach now. It’s not flat. After two kids, it won’t ever be again. This is just the way it is. I think I’m finally okay with that.
