Body Changes = Attitude is EVERYTHING!

Disclaimer:  My husband LOVES the zipper detail in this skirt and just couldn't resist pushing the limits of my conservative comfort zone!

A few weeks ago, I read this post by Natasha detailing her coming to terms with no longer being a size 8.  Of course the title caught my attention...utter transparency snatches my attention every time. Natasha's opens her post stating,

After months of denial, I have finally accepted the fact that I am no longer a size 8.   In my acceptance, I did the unthinkable, but probably in hindsight the right thing, I removed most (there are just some pieces I couldn’t let go of) of  the size 8′s (especially the pants) that were taking up space in my closet and donated them.  


First of all, I think I totally love her!  Seriously!  Secondly, it's with growing acceptance that I say, "I can relate!"  The past year, my body has changed dramatically (to my eye, anyway).  It's not typical weight gain, but rather age related (I'm 45) weight redistribution.  I almost feel as if I'm in someone else's body sometimes!  My waist, which I've NEVER had an issue with before, has thickened.  My breasts, (I've always been flat chested) have grown (GASP!!) without any outside influence!  My legs are stronger and firmer than ever, so that's been a plus.  But I have to accept that my body is NOT the same as it was a year ago, or two years ago.  And that doesn't HAVE to be a bad thing.

As in most cases, perception is everything.  I can perceive myself to be "heavier" or I can choose to see myself through a woman's eyes; understanding that bodies change and it's a natural part of life.  Skinny doesn't equal attractive anymore than curvy equals fat.  But I'm going to be honest here.  This has not been an easy transition in my thinking, nor is it complete.  But I can honestly say that I'm getting there.

One of the things that helps is knowing that I'm doing the healthy things; and so if this is where my body rests, then it must be my "normal".   I regularly exercise.  I eat healthy MOST of the time.  I've spent a HUGE chunk of my life dieting.  Feeling guilty for eating.  Wanting to look like someone other than myself.  I'm really not interested in going back to that twisted mindset.

So from what I can tell, I have three choices.  1....I can get depressed and whine about getting older.  That is soooooo not me!  2.....I can determine that I'm not letting this happen and amp up my workouts and carefully guard my calorie intake.  NOT really feeling this option at ALL!  Do I REALLY want to spend my life working for my body?  Isn't it supposed to be working for me???  or 3....Accept and Embrace this new, more.....dare I say it?  BOMBSHELL figure!  Monty, I'm going with what's behind Door #3!   I guess one's never to old to learn how to work the BOMBSHELL!

 And by the way, PLEASE be sure to check out the other visible ladies over at Not Dead Yet Style!

Body Contentment vs Body Happiness

Gap Wool Sweater:  Thrifted, Vintage Leather Skirt:  Thrifted, BCBG Wedges:  Thrifted, Bangles:  Thrifted

See this body?   It's not the smallest it's capable of being.  It's true!  Through really vigorous exercise, I've gotten myself down to a size 6 and at my smallest, was even trying on some size 4s!  All the while weighing in at just under 140 pounds.  Great accomplishment, right?  I certainly thought so at the time.  In fact, most of my life has been spent either fretting over my body's size or shape OR trying to break it's stubborn will and suborn it to my idealized mental image of what I wanted it to look like.

When I look back through the years, I can only think, "What a futile life's purpose!"  Because it really was a life's purpose.  Trying to have model thin thighs monopolized my thoughts.  My pants size became the obsession of my brain.  And all of my angst was rewarded by the shear delight of going into a department store and "fitting into" a smaller size.  And because there's ALWAYS one size smaller, my angst was never relieved and my lust for being satisfied with what I saw in the mirror was never sated.

Through that decades long journey, I've come to a conclusion.  As small as one CAN get is probably not where their body's meant to be.  That's why those 10 pounds usually always find their way back on.    We're not failures.  Our body is trying to tell us that we're not SUPPOSED to be that size!  Just because you can GET to a size 2 isn't proof that it's the right size for you.    I could attain a size 6, but maintaining that size would require herculean effort and time.

We hear so much talk about body image and body acceptance.  And that's a GOOD thing.  But it saddens me that it's even an issue at all.  How unfortunate that we put unattainable or unMAINtainable body shape standards on ourselves at all!  For some reason, women (more than men) make such a connection between happiness and the size of jeans we wear!  I certainly did!  And if I'm being brutally honest with you and myself, every now and then that mindset still wants to creep in.  It takes discipline to break the habitual thinking that started in my preteens.

The thing about happiness, though, is that it's usually circumstantially based.  When the skinny jeans fit; we're happy.  When they don't; we're depressed.  When we like what the scale reads; we're  happy.  When we don't; we're blue.  Do you see that pattern?   And we can't even deny it, because how many times do we get dressed in the morning and try putting on something that's not too tight, only to find our day is ruined because we now see ourselves as fat?  I've seen (and been there myself) so many women who step on a scale happy as a clam because they just KNOW they'd be lighter than they were the day before.  And when they don't see the number they were expecting, like a card in the hand of a magician....happiness disappears.

So, while I'm not the HAPPIEST I've ever been with my body (remember how giddy I was over a fleeting size 6!); I'm absolutely the most content with the ol' bod!  I'm content with the fact that I'm strong.  I'm content with larger calves that now hang from my shins like a rotisserie chickens, not dangle back and forth from them like chandelier earrings!  I'm content with my muscular legs, even if they're not exactly small.  They can climb, walk for hours and kick some butt if need be!  I'm content with my poochy tummy, because it reminds me that this amazing creation  that is my body, housed four healthy children!  I'm content with my arms because they're strong enough to embrace my husband and my children in a honkin' big bear hug!

 I'm content with the woman I see in the mirror.  I'm content with this body.  And I've come to realize that  contentment is so much more fulfilling than fickle happiness.