“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, STEP RIGHT UP, STEP RIGHT UP…I PRESENT THE MOST INSECURE WOMAN IN THE WOOOOOORLD! WATCH AS SHE PERFORMS HER GREATEST TRICK EVER, THE ULTIMATE MUFFIN TOP. WILL SHE BE ABLE TO FIT HER CURVY BODY INTO THOSE HOT, RED SKINNY JEANS? LET THE SHOW BEGIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN”
Okay, so I know that’s a harsh introduction to today’s rant, but I was not blessed with the high-self esteem gene. I use to hate…capital H-A-T-E, shopping for clothes. When you’re a chubby kid, nothing seems to fit right and sadly there’s not much different when you’re a chubby grown-up. My mother, my dear mother, simply adored the lavender dress suits and miniature Bill Cosby-like sweaters she would dress me in on Easter Sundays and for Picture Day at school. However, I did not. She stuffed my oversized belly into corduroy pants and two-sizes too small tank tops. The only outfits that I loved were linen rompers during summer time. When I was older and able to dress “my” way, I chose to decorate my flabby goods in boy clothes. I wore men jeans and oversized shirts just like my brother. High heels and dress shoes? Fuggedaboutit! I was comfortable dressing that way. Although, at the time I didn’t know that all of my classmates secretly thought I was a lesbian. Me, a lesbian? I definitely needed Stacy and Clinton of What Not to Wear. Pronto, amigos!
Once I started to drop the weight as an undergrad in college, high heels sprouted from my feet, short jean skirts wrapped around my waist, and two-sizes too small tank tops were A-okay with me! Although I was enjoying the way I looked in my new clothes, I still hated to shop. I felt that I still had a few problem areas around my stomach and thighs, which made my shopping experiences very interesting and intimidating. I dreaded stepping into the room of “judgement” or what you may call the fitting room. I’ve never been a huge fan of the awful lighting that emphasizes every stretch mark or casts shadows on all the wrong places. Oh, yeah, and I absolutely despised the circus mirrors. I don’t find them funny at all. And if that’s not enough to make anyone want to bolt from those tiny, prison cells with broken door handles or curtains for doors, how about the disappointment of putting on a pair of pants that are too small or the wrong fit. I hate putting on a beautiful dress, loving the way it looks from the front view, the back, but despising the lumpy side view. No amount of sucking in your stomach will make it better. I guess that is the beauty of!
People, my mindset has changed. One day while standing in front of my bathroom mirror, I took a long hard look at myself. I had to come to the realization that my body has gone through so much. At the beginning of my weight loss journey, my philosophy was that if you are to lose weight or to be happy with your body in the future, you must learn to accept it as it now. Our bodies should be treated well and respected for getting us through the good and the bad. With this body, I survived birth, I survived years of emotional and physical abuse, I survived puberty and being crushed by childhood crushes, with my fingers and an old duct taped game controller I saved the Princess from the dinosaur in Super Mario Bros….five times, I’ve climbed a pyramid in Mexico, and now I am preparing my body for motherhood. My body is strong and every stretch mark is a scar from the emotional and physical battles of my life so far. I believe that every pound gained is a hidden story of life’s obstacles, but more often than not we have the chance to do something about it. What good will it do to complain and cry about muffin top and a little jiggle in the middle? I’m not crazy about the jiggle in my middle, but sometimes when I want to complain about it, I just hold my stomach, squeeze it, make funny shapes out of it (it’s crazy, I know), laugh, and let it go. I LET IT GO! Now, I’m not saying that I jump for joy when someone says, “Hey, lets go shopping!,” but I have learned how to have fun with my body. I don’t see the fitting room as four walls of hell anymore. I try to see it as an opportunity to discover just how much my body has changed. So what, I’m not a size 6. I don’t care to be a size 6. I’m loving the way a size 12 feels right now especially considering that I use to be a size 20.
Yeah, I am a freak. A FREAKIN FREAK of NATURE!!!!!!!!!!!!
YourTruth Question: How do you stay positive?