"Imagine getting up in the morning and seeing, like, you’ve got a spot (I just found a spot this morning myself, actually). And you’ve got a spot and you don’t think that the world’s come to an end. You just put a bit of ... dab a bit of something on it and then walk out in the world because you’re so happy with yourself and your space that you can just take that space and you don’t need to apologize for yourself. Imagine that. That would be a great place to be. Imagine getting up in the morning and just putting on your clothes without even having to think about whether they make you look one way or another. Because you know that ... your space in the world is assured. You’re allowed to be whatever you want or need to be. You’re welcomed like that. Imagine that."
The video ends with the following text on the screen: Loving the natural you should be an everyday occurrence. Constantly worrying about your reflection and criticizing your body, shape and size is an act of violence against yourself.
For the past three weeks or so, I've been getting reacquainted with the gym and doing so on a much more regular basis than I ever have in the past. My motivations for returning to voluntarily sweating my tits off on a regular basis are varied and you should know by now that I'm an orderly kind of gal so a list, it is!
A. Every year, February kicks my ass; it's just a suckass month. And every time it ends, I notice how positively lazy and unhealthy I feel, both physically and mentally. I've never been a girl who loves being on-the-go and I value my relaxing alone time something fierce but a month of it is enough to drive a girl batty. What better way to actually regain some energy than to go expend some?
B. While I've never considered myself to be overly self-conscious when frolicking between the sheets, most women will tell you there *are* some positions that are more likely to challenge one's self-esteem and body consciousness. Being in the "lucky as hell to have had the partners I've had" category, the number of times that's been an issue for me has been next to never. But I did catch myself thinking it not too long ago and while part of it is the fact I don't fall under what I consider to be that partner's ... historically-proven preferred body type, that 'excuse' only goes so far. Mrs. Roosevelt wasn't lying; that's my thing, not his. And when I really thought about it, I realized I wasn't worried so much that he was unhappy with me (because as far as I'm concerned, even if you *are* having sex with someone you're not physically attracted to, that says worlds more about you than it does the other person), I found me being unhappy with me. Not because it makes me feel like a lesser person (it doesn't) and not because I think it makes me hideous (I don't) and not because it's going to change how I frolic between the sheets (it's not) but because I remember when I didn't feel that and I simply prefer that feeling to this one. So, as Mayor Wilkins assured the concerned citizens of Sunnydale, "never again," I've assured myself of the same thing.
C. At some point in February, as a way to combat its suckiness, I decided to start revamping my non-existent style. I still don't believe clothes make the (wo)man but I do feel there's some truth to the statement, "if you look good, you feel good." I bought whatever size I needed regardless of what number that was, I bought whatever I liked and wanted, and I've worn it. I've also found that actually giving a shit and making a conscious effort to not give in to the constant desire to just blend in feels pretty fucking great.
D. My favourite aunt was recently diagnosed with breast cancer, had a double mastectomy, and starts chemo in a couple weeks. Thankfully, it was found early enough to not be an immediate death sentence but when a girl starts thinking about losing one of the most important people in her life, she starts thinking about the best way to go about hangin' around in this world for as long as possible.
So. Seeing as though I suck at goals, I didn't set a specific one so much as tell myself, "If you go to the gym twice a week and both weekend days, that would be awesome. But three days a week and both weekend days would be super awesome." Technically, a goal? I suppose so. But a ... lenient one. I don't plan on altering my ridiculously picky eating habits much because ... well, simply put, I don't want to. Food has never been my vice of choice and while I do have an aversion to just about all things green (save for leafy lettuce), I'm fairly content with what and how I eat. The last time I knew my weight was maybe six or so months ago at my last doctor's appointment and I have no intention of tracking whether or not that number has or will go down.
We *are* all allowed to be whatever we want or need to be and I'm opting for happier and healthier. If thinner winds up being a side effect, cool. But if not, I'm still gonna have the happier and healthier part, which is really the only part that matters.
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:)
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