Weighty Wednesday: The Hug I Couldn't Give

I have not come to magically love my body in the last week.

Yeah, I know, I was hoping that writing about it would make it happen too. Oh well.

And yet, I feel better than the woman I overheard the other day. This woman was definitely in better shape than I am, in fact, I thought she looked great. But apparently she wanted to look like her extremely petite friend (even though she was of medium height and had pretty big bones), or something. It was an awkward eavesdrop situation. But you couldn't mistake the anguish in her voice when she discussed how hard she'd worked to lose that 20 pounds. And how her husband didn't appreciate it. Or didn't notice? That part wasn't clear either.

I just wanted to hug her and tell her she looked great. I wanted to tell her to stop starving herself because she was being really grouchy with her kids. I wanted to tell her to use all that energy to paint or write or sing or run a marathon or take up tap dancing or read or run for office.

I have no recollection of where I read this, but it hit home so hard on so many levels that I now have it posted above my desk:

This relates to EVERYTHING in my life, but I mention it here because it's what I wanted to say to the woman I eavesdropped on.

I feel like we're being hard on ourselves when, instead of enjoying a few bites of cake, we eat six sweet potatoes. I feel like we're being hard on ourselves when we don't take the time to enjoy a meal. I feel like we're being hard on ourselves when we do the exercise we hate for 20 minutes instead of the one we enjoy (but doesn't necessarily burn as many calories) for an hour. I feel like any time we make a decision because we feel too fat/bad/sad/worthless/out of shape to ask for what we truly want, we are being hard on ourselves.

Whereas working hard on ourselves is enjoying one slice of cake, instead of scarfing down two because we feel "bad" for eating it at all. Or taking the yoga class we love instead of the boot camp we hate - who cares as long as we're off the couch? I feel like we're working hard on ourselves when we realize there's so much more to our attractiveness or worth than what the scale says. I feel like we're working hard on ourselves when we make choices based on our authentic wishes, not because we're afraid to be in front of other people in a bathing suit.

And by the way? I think you look beautiful today. Hugs.

Weighty Wednesday: These Geese

I think the geese look great. (Wait, those ARE geese, right? I'm not really good with bird species. Except flamingos. Because flamingos are awesome.) Who cares that their rear ends are like four times the size of the rest of their bodies? That's the way they are and there's nothing wrong with that.

If only I could say the same thing about my own ass. Or my stomach. Especially my stomach.

But I'm not as enlightened as your average goose*.

I don't hate my body; I'm too old for that kind of bullshit. There is a wide gulf, though, between not hating and being totally accepting. But I would walk across that gulf, even if it was filled with goose* shit, just to accept my body as it is. Think of how delightful it would be to look at a picture of yourself and focus on the fond memory, not of how you should never wear horizontal striped pants again. Or to just wear what you liked, no matter what the size or the stripe direction. Or to not feel bad for eating the extra cookie. Or to be comfortable wearing your bathing suit in public. Or to not worry about being judged for your weight, whatever that weight happens to be.

I don't know why I think I can accept my body now, when I didn't as a young, thin-ish person, except that I'm generally more accepting now than I was in my youth. Also, smarter. Except about birds.

Someone reading this is probably thinking, "BUT WHERE ARE THE DIET TIPS? YOU CAN'T TALK ABOUT WEIGHT WITHOUT GIVING US TIPS FOR LOSING IT!"

That person probably isn't coming back, if for no other reason than for what I'm about to say:

Diets are stupid.

DIETS ARE STUPID.

I'm not saying they can't help you lose weight. Paleo. Nutrisystem. Jenny Craig. Atkins. That diet that Jennifer Aniston's personal trainer recommends. They've all helped someone get the body they wanted. Some of them have probably even had people who actually kept that body long-term.

But in this world, anything you go on - a carnival ride, an airplane, a diet - is also something that you must go off. And for some of us, going off that diet just means making up for all that time you've felt deprived. Or, depending on the severity of the diet, it means making up for all that time your body has actually been deprived. And it means feeling good, or not so good, depending on what the scale says or how your jeans fit or what have you.

This is not a recipe (ha!) for happiness and self-acceptance. Or health, for that matter.

And for a lot us feeling bad leads to over-eating, which leads to dieting, which leads to going off the diet, which leads to gaining weight, which leads to feeling bad, which leads to. . . .

The diet industry making a shit-ton of money and totally gorgeous people feeling bad about themselves because they're not as skinny as Jillian Michaels.

You don't see that happening to geese*, do you?



*Or whatever those are.

Weighty Wednesday: A Box of Waffles

Last summer, I blogged about weight for the first time. And then I got distracted, or possibly I chickened out and I stopped writing about it. If I don't blog about it, I can ignore it. Besides, I wasn't sure that my voice mattered; most of the weight loss posts and articles and pins that I see are about people who've lost 117 pounds, not 17 pounds like I have. Also, they all seem to include people talking about how they don't eat entire boxes of waffles as a side dish anymore.

I mean, I've never eaten a box of waffles as a side dish, or even a meal. By that standard, I should be skinny. And yet. . . .

There I am, hiding behind my children in yet another picture. Lovebug looks thrilled about it, doesn't he?

This whole self-acceptance thing is hard, yo.

So is eating healthier, especially when your colitis flares and you can't eat vegetables, citrus and whole grains. You know what I CAN eat when my colitis flares? Bagels. You know what doesn't shrink your waistline? Bagels.

I've gotten my ass to the gym every week day, at least. 50 minutes of cardio 5 days a week. I've started paying more attention to my heart rate, instead of just following the routine on the machine or trying to keep my pace up. I've been going to the 80% rate, instead of the 65% like I have for the last year.

Sometimes I feel like I want to cry when I get off a machine. You wouldn't think 15% would make such a huge difference, but it does. At least as far as how I feel during and after the workout. Also, I haven't gained any weight on my bagel diet. And all my jeans have gotten super baggy in the waist again.

Someday I will find a pair of jeans that fits me in the hips and the waist. Sure, I haven't since I was 18 and first got hips, but what is life without hope?

Actually, I have a pair of curvy jeans from Kohl's that worked pretty well until recently. I probably need the next size down (woohoo!). . . .except they don't have them anymore (bastards).

I think I'm going to try to check in every Wednesday about the whole weight loss/self-acceptance/exercise/clothes that fit issue. Would you all mind? I don't promise any diet tips or exercise tips or post cohesion, but I will be honest. And realistic.