For the past few months I have transformed. Shedding my skin in tiny, cleansing ways. At first, it was about losing weight, and fitting into a pair of jeans that didn’t have elastic on the waist (yes, I owned those. Don’t judge!). But, for the past month my transformation has become more than just my jean size. I have started to care for myself again. I have been able to look in the mirror and smirk back at my reflection. When someone has said I look good, I have said “thank you” instead of making a crack about my appearance. I have finally began to enjoy all my wobbly bits and jiggly parts…because they are apart of me. Because hating my body, and hiding myself under baggy clothes was exhausting. There is such a tremendous amount of joy that comes with being comfortable in your own skin. What a profound lesson….I have begun to love myself. Who knew?! When I mentioned to my best friend that I wore a bikini the other week and was looking forward to the beach this summer, she seemed shocked and huffed “but you never do that. you hate that”. She was right, the thought of being in front of others in a bikini or shorts used to terrify me. So, you may ask, what has changed? Well, here is the answer…I no longer base my self-acceptance on anyone else. After so much loss, I refuse to lose any more memories or potential adventures because I am afraid of a strangers glare or condemnation. One of my current mantras is: “Not my circus. Not my monkeys”. Meaning, the craziness and mindless judgements of the crowd is not my problem.
This past week I got to enjoy the company of women who adored themselves, and joyfully embraced their muffin tops, and mommy bodies. It was an amazing. They were more focused on being good mothers, and honoring their friendships, rather than berating themselves over the extra 10 pounds or lack of perfect wardrobe. I had the honor of sitting with one of my closest friends, and basked in the glow of her newfound mommydom. She shared with me how she too is transitioning and realised that she is a bit “hippie”. She has never been more beautiful to me. Her complete contentment with her choices, and her path was…for lack of a better word….completely awesome. Then, there was another mother who laughed about her muffin top, and calmly stated that she “had better things to do than worry about my belly. My husband thinks I am hot, so who else am I worried about”. What a blazingly good statement! And why has it taken me 36 years to love my belly? Well, ok… I may not completely love my belly….but I am trying. We need to start treating eachother with respect, and stop the self hatred. Maybe if we started telling ourselves “I am beautiful, I am funny, and freaking fantastic” instead of “I am fat, I am lazy, and I am miserable” than things would change. I know things have changed for me. I may not look the best in shorts, but I am happy to stop hiding under my extra large sundresses.
So, this summer I will be at the beach in a bathing suit with my belly and my fair skin on full display…. and I can guarantee you I will be having a blast.
This is powerful, freeing, poignant, and oh so enlightening. I salute you for your candor and bravery with yourself. Your story sounds like mine. I love the typewriter and the font, the flavor and most of all your honesty with yourself. We all have to confront our own truths and pen our own stories. Love and enjoy you because nothing is promised. Sending you hugs and kisses. I look forward to speaking with you soon.
Marietta
mariettacn@bellsouth.net
Thank you for this blog. Your words resonated so many of my feelings and thoughts as I have grown older and also faced so many losses. My most recent loss was of my best friend who had been through so much with me, especially the sudden loss of my husband at 40. I knew her for over 30 + years and we did so much together but when her cancer took such a nasty grip of her, she too chose to isolate. It was difficult not to be able to be there for her but I respected it was “her way” and I know our friendship is forever and beyond this realm. I too will grow old with violated dreams but it has given me a greater appreciation for the gift of life and the beauty of nature. We live in a society so focused on attainment and physical beauty but all that is fleeting. Making a difference to others is life’s true beauty. I know I can’t save the world and at times I can get caught up in the sadness of the world but my wounds have become gifts in that I see life more richly and I want to share that with others. Would I like to not have had so many challenges, of course, but life is about challenges and how we can grow from them and share our story to help others is a gift. Your blog is a gift and coming across it tonight just reaffirmed we are not alone. We all have a story, we can’t see it openly like a broken arm but we can be more understanding in how we judge others. Thank you for your story and how your blog will help others.
Dear Joanne,
Thank you so much for your beautiful comment. I feel the love, strength and pain in every word you write. Your thoughts mean so much to me, and I want you to know that you are not alone. We never are. That is the gift in these moments that bring us to our knees. That we find our tribe who will lift us up and hold us. I am so glad that this blog gave you that moment of support, and I hope you continue to reach out. I send you all my support, encouragement and love.
Christina