I would love to journal on here that I am so tired of my body and how overweight I am and that I need so badly to lose weight and look beautiful….
Wait a minute, nope, no I wouldn’t. I don’t want to write that.
Let’s get this straight. This is how I am. I am 50 years old and two boys have stepped out onto the world stage from my velvet curtains and there is nothing that is going to iron them out now. Don’t get me wrong, I want to be healthy – but I am so done with wanting to be that woman that turns men’s heads, and makes other women jealous of my figure. Screw that! At this point in my life, I want to make sure that my husband still looks me in the eyes and smiles at me, and that I don’t have kind-hearted people shoving dollars at me as I pass them by and telling me that Jesus, himself, was homeless.
And yes, there are some on this planet that can find joy and fulfillment in eating grass blades and sucking on tree bark all the time, but I am not one of them. Nope, I love a good, juicy cheeseburger. I love my fries and my desserts.
In a few weeks, my nephew is getting married and in moments of weakness, I sit and worry about how I am going to look and is my flabby arms going to cause long pauses in conversations. One of the hardest things for me to do in life is to remember that I am really not that important to other people that they care about my flabby arms. I think we all fall into that trap. We sit and create these elaborate scenarios in our heads about how others think and pay so much attention to us when in reality, no one really gives a shit. And how many other women are going to be at this same wedding worried about what I am thinking about them? If they only knew that I don’t give a shit what they look like either! In reality, all I will be thinking about is what is going to be served at the reception and hoping the cake is chocolate.
And what is there to gain by looking absolutely stunning at someone else’s wedding? That is horrible to even think about! Stealing the thunder from the bride? Absolutely not. By retaining all of this water weight and not taking care of these grey hairs, I am helping that bride have a magical day. We all have to do our part.
I am starting to feel really good about myself! (and my flabby underarms!)
The Bad Example 