(Sample of my favorite outfit . . . )
I was always mystified because I'm the first to admit that my life is good. Really good. But still each morning I'd wake up and feel sad. I'd go in my closet, put on my running or yoga clothes (I do one or the other every day) and look at myself in the mirror and think, Blah. Then I'd go my work out and come back and not feel any better for it.
I didn't like what I saw in the mirror.
I hate this part. I feel all sorts of shame and wrongness, but I'm going for the full honestly and so I'll say, I really didn't like the getting old me. If I wanted to lose five pounds even two years ago, I'd up my mileage and cut out sugar. Boom. Five pounds gone. Then back to eating whatever I wanted. And so on and so forth. It was easy maths.
But then things started changing and I didn't eat sugar anymore anyways. I ran more miles and ate even better food . . . and nothing changed. In fact, I magically gained another seven pounds.
Now, I really am not super body conscious and I just thought, It's a phase, I'll get back to normal. But it didn't. And I realized something, along with my laugh lines and crepe skin, I had an extra seven to ten pounds that were here for the duration.
I realized this in the spring. After two years of literally trying to starve myself and run myself into the ground and yogize and pilaties myself back into my sleek form, that I was not ever EVER going to have the body of a 25 year old. EVER AGAIN.
Why this was a surprise to me, I seriously don't know. I'm forty-three. I am like twenty years almost from that age. But something in my brain told me that the only way I'd have value was to look 25. (I'm here to interject that no one ever told me I had to look 25, I did this all to myself). Ug. I'm seriously sick writing this, but here's the deal, I bought into the silly notion that youth is where it's at. And that's why I'd wake up each day frustrated and discontent. I was no, nor would I ever be young again.
I looked at all these jeans and shirts and dresses that would fit me again if only I'd loose that seven pounds. I pulled out all the shorts that would look good again once I toned up my bum and thighs. I pulled out those sports tanks that seriously had been showing my side boob, not fat. Side boob. Ok, who am I kidding, it's totally chubs.
I pulled them all out and put each one on. I looked fat in each one. Really. All sorts of unflattering stuff was hanging out over the edges and getting squeezed. Not good. I felt horrible in each one. I vowed to never eat anything again. And then I pulled out these old pair of soft ten year old gap boy jeans.
(these are them . . . I LOVE them!)
They used to be huge on me, but when I put them on, they fit just right. I looked fit. I looked good. They hugged my new curves and I thought, dang, I have booty. I never had booty like this before. I pulled out other bigger clothes and put them on and you know what . . . they all FIT. Like perfectly. Nothing was hanging out in strange places, I didn't have to suck it in or do a jump and pull dance to get them on. They slid on. They felt like heaven.
And I remembered this thing that my beautiful friend Aimee said to me a few years ago (she's much wiser than me). She told me about how she was on this date with her husband and she was wearing these sweet tight white jeans that looked fantastic on her but she honestly couldn't breath in them. Half way through dinner, she was dying. She looked over at her husband and said, Oh, my gosh I can't wait to get home and get out of these jeans! He looked at her and said, Aim, aren't we past this. I love you. Just wear the big comfy jeans.
Yes, he's the thoughtful, best husband ever.
But as I was standing there, looking at this large and pricey pile of jeans and shorts and tops, I thought. Yeah, aren't we past this? Can't we just wear the comfy clothes?
And so, I bagged up everything. I mean everything that I didn't love the way it looked on me. There was some pain, I like nice things and to see some jeans and shorts and leggings I paid way too much for get put into a black plastic bag hurt my heart a little. But at the same time, it felt SO so so good. Like one of the best choices I've ever made. The only thing I can compare it to was breaking up with my first boyfriend. He was awesome, talented and sweet, but just not for me. I put the break up off for as long as I could until I felt suffocated. I was scared. It stinks to be without a boyfriend. Especially a cute one that all the other girls wanted. But it wasn't right. I felt wrong and uncomfortable and just . . . ick. So finally, I told him. I do not remember what I said, but it was short and sweet and ended with, you probably shouldn't call me again.
And I never looked back.
That's how it felt to donate that big old bag of clothes. Super hard, lots of doubts, second guessing and some floundering and fear but once I did it, hallelujah freedom. Like top ten days of my life. Ok, maybe twenty. Giving up those clothes was seriously a symbol of me giving up these ideas of myself and what I was, who I should be and then, who I really am today.
The best part? I found, literally over night, that each morning when I woke up, I was excited to put on clothes again. Instead of all this guilt of what I wasn't, my clothes said exactly who I am right now today. I'm a middle aged mama who loves big jeans, joggers, big shorts, and stretchy pants. I love all of my clothes. They fit me how I am today. Yeah, some may be frumpy. But who is looking at me? Really, I mean one of the best parts of being middle aged if you ask me is that no one is looking at you anymore--unless it's to get more food, advice, love, understanding, and council. That's what being a middle aged Mama means. And I DIG it.
I've got a big kitchen to feed everyone.
I've got arms that have rocked babies for years, come on in, I'll give you a big old hug.
And I've lived some of life enough to tell you, and mean it, It's going to be ok. Really. This will pass and something even better is ahead.
Best of all, I can tell you young (and old) people, you are gorgeous in ever way. You don't have to do anything to your face or your body or wear anything special to be that. You just came here to this earth full of so much beauty it hurts my eyes.
I got your back. I believe in you. I have no doubt you will do amazing things and change the world for the better.
See? What are a few pounds and wrinkles compared to this TRUTH I know? Paashaw!
Besides, have you seen the new jogger pants? They're like awesome. And they totally make everyone's behind look HOT. Really.
So for reals, if you're feeling glum about your sweet self and how your body doesn't fit what you had in your mind, CHANGE your mind. Maybe you will lose and tone up that beautiful body, but it might take a minute. Why not get yourself some sweet stretchy joggers and rock your curves while you've got them? Love up what the good Lord gave you TODAY. I'm telling you, when I got me a size up jogging shorts that magically hid most of the junk in my trunk, I felt like a million dollars. Suddenly, I wanted to go walking and running and hiking again. They inspired me.
Get yourself some inspiration. You deserve it. Plus, there's killer sales right now everywhere! And PS Old Navy and Target . .. they have the BEST athlesure (stretchy pants/et all) in the world. And the prices . . . you can get two of those in EVERY COLOR for those prices.
You are worth a new set of something that makes you feel how you feel inside--amazing, brilliant, beautiful, and still HOT no matter what your size.
Deal?
Deal.
And seriously, send me pictures of your top finds and your sweet selves in your favorite outfits. I promise, I will LOVE them all.
PPS share the deals you find . . . I love SALES!!
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