I don’t like to discuss weight too much, especially mine. I just feel that it is a personal topic, plus I’m too afraid that someone will start judging me based on my eating habits or lack of physical activity or the fact that my inner dialogue is probably enough to make anyone run crying back into bed, pull the covers over and hide.
But suffice it to say, I would like to be more fit. More energized. And yes, I would like to lose weight. It’s hard to grow in a family where everyone else, when they were growing up, never had to worry about what they ate or gaining weight. My family were beanpoles. Skinny. Itty bitty.
Not me. Never. I think I’ve mentioned that as young as 5 years old I started paying attention to my size, my weight, and realizing that I wasn’t where I thought, or where society thought I should be. In going through my journal entries yesterday to find something both heartwarming (ha!) and equally entertaining, I happened upon several entries where I was putting myself down for my size, especially compared to others my age.
I remember having a discussion in one of the Women’s Studies classes I took at college about body image and such, and one person talked about how much harder it was for her being at college and seeing all the other girls who were smaller. I was different, though. I actually felt better. I felt like I’d finally found more people closer to my size than there were at my high school.
I got to my smallest adult weight, and my healthiest self overall, right before my wedding. I hated to be like that. I didn’t want to be a stereotypical girl who lost weight for her wedding then gained it all back afterward, but there you go. That was me. I think I was able to get in shape so easily because Chris was in Alaska at the time, so it was just me, away from family, and I could focus on myself. I haven’t had that stretch of time alone since. We got married, moved back home, I got a job working nights, then had a baby, then transitioned to days, then had another baby, then stayed home and never took the time to focus on myself again.
But I’m trying. I’m trying to carve out time for myself to work out my muscles and get my heart rate up. It is proving difficult, but I think that is because I don’t feel like I can. I feel like any time not spent right with my kids is time I’m taking away from them. Not to mention that I can’t seem to get them to leave me alone and go play by themselves. But I’d like to feel better, both physically and mentally. I’d like to change my internal dialogue, to look at myself differently.
But I also sure as shit would like to fit back into those clothes I used to wear.
|Gratuitous picture from my wedding, but holy hell |
look at my arms! I miss them ...