A More Beautiful You

I’ve been thinking a lot about body image lately. Not just my own, but others, too. Okay, I’m not just sitting around thinking about your bodies: I’m more thinking along the lines of how others see themselves.

For instance:

How do you feel when you look in the mirror?

What do you think when you try on pants? What if they’re too tight?

Can you run that mile? Are you out of breath jogging to your car in the rain?

Sorry, this isn’t a post to make you feel bad about yourself, I promise!

Actually, my point is how people view themselves differently and what they do differently to fix the things they don’t like.

Oh, and why.

Here’s a question I get sometimes:

Why did you do Weight Watchers?

You know that kind of question where people raise their eyebrows and look you up and down which is supposed to be appraising you but it’s totally making you feel uncomfortable?

I get that sometimes.

Here’s why I did Weight Watchers (or WW, okay?):

I didn’t like myself.

Shocker, right? Sometimes I seem like I’ve got my shit together but in reality, underneath this sarcastic candy shell I’m a big ole’ cream puff with a lot of self esteem issues.

In case you haven’t noticed (if you know me, of course): I’M SHORT.

Yeah, I know guys.

 I. Know.

The tough thing about being short is that when you gain weight it doesn’t really have anywhere to go, so it’s more noticeable. So, for instance, if someone (me) gained THIRTY POUNDS over the course of a year or two, guess what?

People notice.

It only takes one question of: “When are you due?” to make you want to cry into a tub of ice cream and swear to never leave the house again until you fit into those jeans in the bottom of your drawer. (Still hasn’t happened.)

But I digress. This is supposed to be uplifting.

It was almost five years before I actually did something proactive about the weight that I’d gained. By “proactive” I mean “healthy”. I’d used diet pills and lost a good ten or so pounds but nothing more, and found it hard to keep off. It’s tough when you are using something like that and not really changing the way you eat or exercise.

So.

That’s how WW came into play.

I can honestly say it’s the best decision I’ve ever made. When you shed those first two pounds? Man, it feels good. Hit your five pound goal? WOW. Ten? Make your goal? Make lifetime?

It’s amazing. It’s amazing because you’re accountable and you’re healthy and people celebrate you! I was fortunate enough to do the program with friends at work, but when I ventured out to become a lifetime member I got to interact with new people.

The thing is: no one at WW cares that you only lost ____lbs. Even that guy who was almost at one hundred pounds lost thinks you’re awesome!

And you know what? When they feel good for you, you feel good for you.

Isn’t that what we want? To feel good? (Yes.)

I was having a conversation earlier about how those insecurities we feel from high school don’t always go away. I always felt chubby growing up, just because I was smaller. Maybe I wasn’t chubby, but it was always there in the back of my mind that I wasn’t perfect.

Those girls are skinny.

Those girls are tall.

Those girls are pretty.

It doesn’t go away.

Part of me thinks that’s okay, though. The fact that you have those insecurities make you want to better yourself. They make you want to eat healthier or workout more or train for a damn 5K even though running is the absolute bane of your existence.

What I’ve learned in the past two years since changing my lifestyle is that you don’t have to be perfect.

Now, what I mean by that is:  not to be perfect by other people’s standards.

I don’t really care what other people think, to be quite honest: I do this for me.

I’m the one who wants to fit into my pants.

I’m the one who needs to feel confident at the beach.

I’m the one that wants to run those miles and do it with a big smile on my face because I can.

Of course, I’m a firm believer that it’s what’s on the inside that counts. Really. All this talking about eating healthy and working out makes me sound like a total Mean Girl. And yeah, maybe I am one of those, but you know who gets the brunt of my Mean Girl attitude?

Me.

I do!

I am my biggest fan and my own worst enemy at the same time. It’s tough, too. It’s tough because people will tell you they are proud of you, or that you look great, or even that “you look like yourself again”, but does it matter? Does it really matter what they think? (Okay, a little.) But for the most part? No. It doesn’t matter what they think because in the back of your head you know you can always do better. You can always look better, feel better, and push yourself harder.

So, that’s scary. It’s scary because you’ll never be satisfied. Never be happy with yourself. You’ll always find a blemish or stretch mark or some cellulite, but that’s okay!

This is me telling myself that it’s okay, if you want to listen, too. J

It’s okay because, again, we aren’t meant to be perfect. We are imperfect creatures and it’s beautiful! Besides, what’s perfect for me might not be perfect for someone else. I’m okay with a little bit of fluff and a slightly perkier ass thanks to six weeks of 5K training. I’m okay with the “skinny-fat” my best friend and I have dubbed ourselves.

 Is there room for improvement? Sure.

Am I going to keep trying? Absolutely.

Do I try my damnedest every day to be a good person on the inside because that’s what should matter?

Well, that one’s always up for argument.

 

Also, here's a little song to make you feel good: