I found an interesting website that shows pictures of various people who are all the same size. You plug in a few figures - I plugged in 5'8" and 160 pounds (my current height and weight) and it brings up photos of people who decided to participate in this website creator's vision, which is to illustrate that BMI charts have it all wrong. No two women looked alike at that height and weight, and of course they all looked good to me.
I've had this blog for over 4 years and have spent an incredible amount of time and energy lamenting my size, documenting the journey to make myself smaller, healthier, happier, contented, at ease with my body, etc. Sometimes I was, sometimes I wasn't, (lather, rinse, repeat), and I recently realized that I have arrived. It's not how I pictured it would look in my mind. It's not quite that awesome. I'm about 12 pounds above my self-inflicted "goal weight" (yes, that's supposed to sound like some sort of torture...goal weight. The term should be abolished!) and never quite made it into my skinny jeans. I did, however, make it into my 'skinny-enough" jeans. For a 46 year old woman, mother, wife, I'm good with it. I know...kind of underwhelming. Kind of anticlimactic. But it is what it is.
There are the obvious (and they do have merit) phrases that I tried to live by, such as: "Love yourself for who you are.", "Accept yourself as you are.", "Don't focus on the number on the scale....focus on how you feel." etc. And while those are all good, positive gems to live by, they never really provided the impetus I required for improving my health and well being, or my appearance. I didn't want to do any of those things. I didn't want to just be satisfied with the status quo because I believed in myself. I believed that I had it in me to improve. I wanted to keep trying, because that's what I do.
As annoying as it may have been to some people, I offer no apologies. None. This was my journey, I chose to share it because that's what I do.
I have settled into a lifestyle that suits me and makes me very happy. I adore cooking fabulous meals for myself and my husband (and even my son is becoming more open to them) that contain no grains, no legumes, no dairy, no added sugars, about 90% of the time. I do enjoy a good quality cheese now and then, I use heavy whipping cream in my coffee, I drink wine and whiskey, sometimes beer, and I eat rice or corn tortillas once or twice a month. I don't desire any of the foods that I'm not eating. I have no cravings for anything. I am pretty active. It makes me happy to run, walk, hike, horseback ride, do yoga, and now tennis. That's why I do it. It = Happiness.
I have arrived. And I realize that I don't actually need or want to be "thin" or "skinny". In fact, that is kind of a turn off for me (and I'm sure for my husband too). I love being a woman, looking like a woman, having a belly. I can wear a bikini now, why wait? Who cares.
I'm too awesome to care. A sexy belly is the new 6 pack.
Here I am, pretty much unable to breathe in this pose, but still...I bought the damn thing and I wear it with pride.
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