Yesterday, I was trying to squeeze my butt into a pair of jeans that usually are my "comfy" fallback. My hubby came up behind me, gave me a loving pat on the tush and commented "oohhh someone's getting a booty!"
With daggers in my eyes, I glared at him. We went for a drive and I was silent. You know those moments, where you look out the window and say nothing at all but are seething inside, met with him asking you if everything is okay and you haughtily respond "yep." Then five minutes go by and he asks you what is the matter and that question is met with the following response: "Nothing".
He then wanted to talk. So I talked. I asked him several times if he thought I had gained weight and where, and he did the dance of complimentary words as follows: "You're beautiful. I love you just the way you are." I asked him several times if he thought I had gained weight. All men know this is a no-win trick question but I would truthfully like to know from my own spouse which parts of my body have seemed to have grown. I badgered him in a sort of Law & Order form of questioning until he finally shouted "In your ass okay????"
Silence again. Quiet all the way home. My husband is the most kind hearted and generous soul there is, but sometimes, the truth hurts. It's no secret that I've been up and down in my weight. I used to be stick thin and in my 30's certainly filled out to a more curvacious woman. With that being said, I've also been teasing Michael lately that he needs to lose the chunk.
It's such a double edged sword, this weight thing. On one hand, you don't want to fall into the trap of the media where you know their perception of beauty is unattainable, especially when everything is airbrushed these days. On the other hand, there is always the thought in the back of your mind when your clothes are simply too small or you don't feel good about yourself.
Today on The Ellen Show, her wife Portia was a guest and discussed her new book regarding her lifelong battle with an eating disorder and self-worth issues. I realized that as a woman, no matter what the upbringing, we all battle with inferiority complexes in some shape or form. I'm quite certain there is not a woman alive out there who thinks her life is perfect or has never been her own worst critic regarding some aspect of her life.
I'm a perfectionist and always have been. I'm quite sure that will never change. I am not happy unless in my mind, I have done everything I can to get to where I am. For example, there were so many details about my wedding that drove me nuts in trying to plan; details I'm sure that nobody even paid attention to, however I noticed. I'm a big fan of the phrase "overplan and then go with the flow."
Sometimes in life, there is only so much you can do to accept things the way they are. I do believe this weight issue in society is getting out of hand but I am also a believer in getting off my (fat) ass to do something about it. We can all complain about some aspect of our lives but I know that when I look in the mirror and am not happy with what I see, it's not because I'm irritated about that fact. I'm actually irritated that I'm unhappy about something and not doing anything about it.
Sometimes, we just have to get off our butts and start moving.
Does anybody want to go for a walk?
Check out that boot-y!