And so it goes. That’s a blog title SEO nightmares are made of. The rule of thumb is to do a keyword search and find out what some popular words are and then incorporate one of them into your title and your first paragraph. I’m sure none of the words in my title would show up as a popular search engine word. Oh well. I write these posts because I enjoy writing, and sometimes what I feel and what comes out on paper also resonates with other people, so I post it publicly. If I make money from someone clicking an affiliate link, excellent. If not, that’s also cool.
I spent this past weekend roaming the piss and puke-stained streets of New Orleans. It was a good time, but because I am who I am, I now have some sort of infection in my body that prevented me from being able to function Tuesday & Wednesday. I’m better today except for the upset stomach, nausea, and inability to taste things. And so it goes. I’ve been tested for COVID, flu, strep throat, and mono – I don’t have any of them. I like to look at the positives, and the positive here is I don’t have a fever anymore.
This post is supposed to be about body image and how I’m beginning to accept what I look like and what it took for me to make it to this point. So many things are running through my head that I want to write about, though. So I’m going to attempt to stay on track.
Shorts, Fat, & Cellulite
The day before I was slated to depart for NOLA, I tried on a pair of jean shorts from last summer. Last summer, I was still running almost every day and lifting weights with a personal trainer. My eating habits improved, but I still struggled with it most days. All of this to say, I was thinner a year ago, and the shorts didn’t fit. I have thighs and a butt this year because I consume calories and don’t run multiple miles every morning. My natural body is making an appearance. I made a trip to the mall (yes, those still exist) the following day. My flight didn’t leave until late afternoon, so I had plenty of time. I hit the curvy girl jackpot in Buckle. Buckle isn’t a store I’ve shopped at much until recently. Their clothes are expensive, and I always viewed Buckle as a store for skinny people. I’ve never thought of myself as thin. Even underweight, skinny isn’t how I would have described myself. I bought three pairs of shorts, though! THREE!
Remember when I bought new jeans a couple months ago? If not, go read that too!
On my first morning in NOLA, I stood naked in front of my hotel room mirror. I was slightly bloated because I stayed up late eating, drinking, and people watching. I pinched my FUPA and thought, “I’m okay with this.” I apologize to those who have had babies and probably say, “what fucking FUPA are you talking about, Sam?”. It’s small, but it’s there. It’s part of being a woman, though – a part that I never wanted to accept, so I ran and restricted so that I didn’t have one.
Then I grabbed the fat on my back. I wouldn’t say I like that fat. Who does? But it’s there and likely isn’t going anywhere. I sent my sister a photo of my legs and told her I have our mom’s legs (not a compliment). They’re getting chunky around my knees, and the cellulite is becoming more and more prominent. I still run and work out regularly. I eat a well-rounded diet. Yet here I am with cellulite and fat. They aren’t pretty things.
The point of all of this is that I wore the new shorts – the shorts that fit me. I felt good about my body in them. Really good.
Body Image
As a culture, we’re obsessed with size. Women always want to know what size something is or what size it correlates to. Because to us, size is important. Saying “I’m a size 2 or 4” is significant; it makes us feel more worthy. Size is part of our identity. And so it goes…
I love art. Art history is fascinating to me. Thousands of years ago, sculptures and paintings portrayed curvaceous female silhouettes. Not so much anymore. Nowadays, people post a before and after of weight loss when the before wasn’t fat and are celebrated with likes on social media. It makes all of us get into our heads about whether we’re fat and if we need to alter our bodies.
I think very deeply about most things. It’s a curse. It brings me a lot of perspectives, though, so I’ve come to accept it. Last week, I saw a before and after photo of someone I think highly of. She looks phenomenal, and I know she worked really hard for her current body. I’m unsure what her eating habits have been, but I know she kills it in the gym. I thought to myself, “I could do that too.” But then I thought about the upkeep and the reality of having that body. The obsession with food and the exercise it takes to maintain it. I’ve been obsessed with food and training most of my life. It’s done nothing but add to my anxiety. After deeply thinking about it, I decided I didn’t want that body. It might be okay for her and something she can healthily maintain, but it’s not for me. Anxiety isn’t something I need more of in my life.
Mental Health
Binge eating is as much of an eating disorder and mental health issue as bulimia and anorexia. When I lived in Dallas, my PCP was always on me to lose weight pre-cancer because my BMI was too high. I’m 5’3 and probably weighed around 145-150 lbs. at the time. This was when I was recovering from severe binge eating that led to quite a bit of weight gain. If you look at my photos over my adult life, I go from very thin to not-so-thin frequently. I know that doctor was concerned about my heart health because heart disease runs in my family. So do obesity and alcoholism. I was pretty much set up for success at birth. [insert sarcasm]. Anyway, her comments sent me in the complete opposite direction. Enter restriction and laxatives again. Then life happened, and I went back to binging. It was never-ending.
Early in my cancer treatment, I lost a lot of weight. Stomach issues and loss of appetite paired with running a minimum of 8 miles per day will do that to you. Then came steroids and stress resulting in weight gain. At 32, I finally think I’m coming to terms with what my body is supposed to look like and how altering it to something else affects my mental health significantly. My reality is broad shoulders, wide hips, and a round ass. I have love handles that I don’t love at all, and I’m plagued by the “condition” of cellulite.
Side-note: It’s not a fucking condition. It’s part of the human body and doesn’t mean I’m unhealthy.
Meeting Myself Where I Am
Fat under my arms hangs over my bra, and there is fat on my back regardless of whether I’m wearing a bra. I honestly don’t know what I weigh because I won’t weigh myself. I know that I currently wear a size 8 curvy fit, in pants and shorts. If shirts have sleeves, I no longer can fit in size small. My bra cup size has increased to a C. My thighs touch and cause some discomfort when I don’t use something for the chafing. I’m trying to learn how movement fits into my life. Running will always be a passion for me. It’s a mental getaway and provides a welcome release from life. Learning how to continue that without counting the calories I burn is new. I’m coming to terms with the fact that my body will bulk up with weight training regardless of what anyone says. Genetics are to blame for that. I’m learning that it’s not okay for people to express their opinion about what size I should be, and what they say about how my body has changed is none of my business. And so it goes, I am who I am, and this is how I look and think.
Call To Action
Where are you with body image acceptance? Do you squeeze your love handles or push them in and think about how you’d look without them? I’d like to tell you to stop, but we all do things in our own time. I can’t tell you to do anything you aren’t ready for. All I can do is ask, what are you prepared to do next for yourself and your mental health?
Tell me your thoughts in the comments or shoot me an email. I’m all ears!
