Thursday, February 9, 2012

I Could Use A Hug

I've been struggling a lot lately. I know what I should be thinking and feeling and doing. But that's not the way it goes. I know that I should love my body for what it can do. I should be grateful for my health and dedicated to maintaining it through healthy eating and regular exercise. Instead, I'm hating my body. All its lumps and bumps. Its lack of definition. The little irksome syndromes and -itises and intolerances I have. And mostly, my own lack of willpower. Every morning I wake up resolved to eat healthily. And every day I sneak a candy bar, shovel down cereal and cheese, and fill up on warm comfort foods. I haven't stocked up on enough fruits and veggies and it's so easy to think "but I'm chilly, I'd much rather have mac'n'cheese than a salad." I always intend to work out at naptime. I even wrote it into the schedule posted on my fridge. But I'm always too busy, or too tired, or too sick. And then I look with envy at the shapely girls with muscles and think "they're so lucky, why do they get to be so pretty when I'm so chubby and old looking?"  Well, silly, it might be good breeding - but much more likely, they're just more disciplined. 

I want to dance.  Very very much.  I've been looking into finding a dance class I could take that will fit my schedule (aka early evening near by).  I really think that it would give me the push I need to get healthy again.  I could celebrate my body and the beautiful things it can do - and I'd probably get in shape in the process.  It's something I truly love, so I'd be more likely to stick with it - to look forward to it.  And to practice at home.  But it's apparently not a popular happening on my side of town and if I have to drive very far I'll start making up excuses not to go.  I want to feel beautiful, to feel powerful - and I do when I'm dancing.  I'm not very good at it, I'm quite the awkward duck, but the point is that it feels beautiful. 

I'm tired of hating myself.  I'm tired of wanting to see my bones, of wanting my clothes to hang off of me, of wanting to be some twisted form of perfect that I know in my heart is not an improvement over my current shape.   I'm tired of letting the demons win.  I just want someone to sit me down and look me in the eye and tell me "sweetie, you're a woman.  and women are beautiful no matter what shape they are."  And more than that - I just don't want to care!  Some of the most beautiful women I know are beautiful because they don't care how they look.  It's not important to them.  Life is important to them and they live it to the fullest and that is beautiful.  I'm tired of feeling awkward in my own skin.  I'm tired of being so painfully shy that I'm afraid to look people in the eyes.  I'm tired of thinking I'm not good enough or interesting enough for other people to waste their time on.  I'm tired of caring if other people care. 

And I'm tired of whining.  So I'm going to stop.  I'm going to spend the rest of my day seeking out my blessings and numbering them - shouting them out with praise and joy.  Because I am immensely blessed and it's silly of me to let these stupid little demons get in my way.  That's when they win.  I won't let them win.  But if you see me out somewhere today - I could use a hug...

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