I spent my 20s starving. I always had trouble controlling my weight and from ages 19-30 I managed to keep it in check by the Diet Coke diet which is, essentially, drinking Diet Coke and eating not much of anything. I was thin but happy, despite the fact that people would morph into turkey drumsticks before my eyes a la Bugs Bunny.
And then I had my gorgeous babies and, like many of us, came out of that with more than a few extra pounds. Ok, I'm fat again. All that food I could have eaten in my 20s I more than made up for in my 30s. I was stuck in the house and the chewing sound drowned out the sound of my weeping and the girls' shrieks.
But I wasn't and still am not happy. I hate being this fat. I hate that being in my 40s means I have a better chance of being caught in a zombie apocolypse than losing a pound. I hate spending money on fat lady clothes because clothing makers assume that if you wear a plus size you are A) 10 feet tall B) 97 years old and C) In loooooove with polyester floral pants. Before kids I had a kick-ass wardrobe! I loved getting dressed. Now I loathe it as much as the season finale of The Muskateers (goodbye Aramis, sniff sniff).
I am currently in the struggle to lose weight again. Hello, Hunger my old friend. It has been a while but I remember you well. Hunger is such a mean girl. She's all "OMG did you see what she is wearing?" and "She'll eat this cream puff...just watch!"
Except recently I was given a bit of wisdom by a very wise old five year old. I was helping Ellie take a shower and I was smoothing the conditioner in her hair. She was looking up at me as I did it and with the most sweet smile she said, "I love you. You know, you are the perfect shape for our mommy."
And all of a sudden, my extra weight didn't seem to matter so much! I AM the perfect shape for their mommy. My tummy is soft enough for little heads to lay on and that's pretty important for a mommy. These special people for whom I live my life think I'm perfect the way I am. And if I lose weight they will think I'm perfect that way. And if my hair grays more they will continue to believe I am perfect. Except I will dye my grays so that's a moo point (Joey reference, anyone?). But you get my drift.
It was such a good reminder for me not to get too caught up in trying to get to my goal weight. I know it is important to be healthy and that means being active and eating right. But it is also important that I am a living example to my daughters; that perfection is a feeling, not something to be attained by a number on the scale. I can hope they will grow up knowing that perfection can mean being in love with yourself with all of your imperfections.
I admit I am still sitting with that mean girl at lunch for many reasons. But it is nice to know that it makes no difference to the ones that mean the most!
Cheers!
Jenny
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