I know, I know. I think I am sort of beating a dead horse here with this post but today we were prompted by a wise woman who challenged a group of us to be completely and utterly honest about something in our lives. And since my body and body image seems to consume 90% of my daily thoughts (and not in a positive way) I thought I should just lay this all out here for once and for all.
I don’t love my body. In fact, I barely like it most days and that is so frustrating.
Every single week I see an inspiring post on Facebook with women who are proudly displaying their post-baby bods, and saying f**k you to society and the unrealistic expectations that are placed on us women to look a certain way. And I say this because society/celebrity/magazines have definitely done a number on me and the expectations I place on myself (despite the fact that I am a frequent Photoshop user for work and I know how much of it is lighting and digital touch-ups).
I have tried. I have REALLY tried to turn things around mentally especially this past year and half while I have been working with my amazing trainer. On paper, I have made incredible progress despite my post-baby diastasis rectii and my post accident neck and back issues. I’ve talked about these mental struggles with body image in previous posts, i’ve talked about the fact that I know I am down 14 pounds (although most in face and boobs lol), 12% body fat and 2 pant sizes since I began (I am 5’10”). I have way more lean muscle. I can pretty much eat (and drink) what I want and not gain. But I do have to work for it, and work for it hard.
But despite all this, why is it that I look in the mirror and see the same person (14 pounds heavier and 12% body fat-ter)??
I can’t push myself much harder. My body is already at the breaking point. Yesterday was supposed to be a rest day but instead I went and checked out a slighty killer Orange Theory Fitness class (post to follow tomorrow!). I ache, a lot. I work out, a lot. There isn’t much more time for more. Yes my diet could be MUCH better (as I sit here sitting a milky sweet latte) but life to me is about enjoying the small pleasures (food, and lots of it!) and I don’t want to deny myself that.
But I do have to stop the comparisons. Stop comparing myself to my 20 something pre-kids, world champion level athlete self. Stop comparing myself to unrealistic images in magazines. And stop comparing myself to others in my life who are just a lot smaller than I am – I am 5’10” and i’ll never be a size 2 (or 4 or 6) and that’s got to be ok with me.
I am getting closer to liking my body, and respecting it for what it can do. One day I hope to love it too.