My body

I posted a pic of myself wearing a skimpy bikini on social media yesterday, which is something that’s somewhat out of character for me. I don’t typically want to draw attention to myself; especially sexual attention. But it felt important to own how hard it was for me to even be wearing it in the first place. 

I have some significant body image issues. When I look at myself, I don’t usually see a thin, attractive, middle aged woman. I see loose skin, cellulite, stretch marks, and fifteen pounds of fat that needs to go. I often avoid looking at myself in mirrors because I dislike what I see. So when I find the courage to expose myself to the world in all my imperfections, it feels like something to be celebrated. 

Our society places too much emphasis on perfection. There is an expectation that even at almost 37 years old, after breast cancer and a baby, I should look like a Victoria’s Secret model. When I look at myself and see how far I am from that ideal, it’s extremely discouraging. But why? This body grew and birthed a healthy 8 1/2 pound baby. It survived cancer. It’s strong and beautiful and I should own that. 

I’m not saying I’ll feel like this every day or that I’m going to stop working towards my goal of getting fitter, but I am going to make a much bigger effort to love myself just as I am right now. Because I’m beautiful and good; inside and out.

feeling bloggy

  • Instagram & Twitter are constantly asking me if I would like to follow certain people. Usually clients. Um…no. I have had clients friend request me though, and I usually block them afterward.
  • I’m running the space heater in my office. Wtf, weather?
  • Just not feeling it today. These cases are frying my brain. I need to find a way to snap out of this funk. It’s always the same shit every day. The shit just piles up. I sometimes feel like I’m drowning. #overwhelmed #stressed
  • Seeing Neil deGrasse Tyson tonight with the bf and his daughter. I bought these tickets months ago. Where is the year going? 
  • The bf and I were planning out our summer last night and so many of the weekends are already full. It will be over before we know it.
  • I resisted the urge to eat a cookie at lunch, because I’ve been promised ice cream from The Fountain after the program. Maybe I’ll make mine an ice cream martini. Yep, that’s happening.
  • I feel like I need to make a change, but I’m not sure exactly what needs changing.
  • My body would be a good place to start. Not feeling body positive at all this week.
  • Though I should, I guess. My weight is within the range I like, despite my terrible eating habits. I’m wearing a size extra small dress, for fuck’s sake. (Vanity sizing is out of control, though. Seriously). But it’s still not enough. I still feel like I need to be fixed. That’s fucked up.  Maybe I should just work on fixing my broken brain.
  • Checking emails, voice mail, and even responding to texts has become a chore. I’m just kind of checked out. I even deleted Facebook messenger from my phone because I got sick of all the messages.  I know they’re still there, but I guess I’m sticking my head in the sand.
  • Today is my bestie’s birthday. We are celebrating Friday night.
  • This got kind of long. Oops.
  • List post over.

a heavy issue

I’m going to discuss my secret shame on the blog.  I think it will help me be accountable and also work through the issues.

I weighed myself this morning at 136.9, which is my official start weight. I want to be 130.  I am almost 5’7" so I’m well within my healthy weight range.

I downloaded the My Fitness Pal app to my iPhone to help keep track of my calories, and all my old info is still in there. When I started using it a couple of years ago, I weighed 146.5 and my goal was 135.  It’s crazy to me that I’m now essentially 135, and it isn’t good enough, because I’ve been 130 for the last year or so.  What I really want is to be 125, but that does not seem to be maintainable for me.  I did see that weight during chemo though.  (All of my friends told me it was a bad look, btw. All I heard from them, like a broken record: you’re too skinny. Way too skinny.“ In my (broken) mind, there isn’t such a thing.)

When I look in the mirror, I see someone who needs to lose about 20 pounds.  I know that’s crazy.  I really do, but my body image is completely distorted.  It has been since about junior year in high school. I weighed 114 pounds and refused to eat at all during the day.  I would eat one giant meal at night (totally binge eating), and that was it.  I was obsessed with my weight.  I was eventually (in college) diagnosed with BDD.  I used to take meds for it, but those meds interfere with Tamoxifen, and so I cannot take them anymore.

A perfect example of how fucking stupid it is: My best friend is 3 pounds heavier than me, and 5 inches shorter.  She thinks she needs to lose weight, but I think she looks great.

I plan to work harder on accepting and loving myself as I am, but I won’t lie and say I don’t intend to keep working to get the body I want.  Part of me knows that even if I got to this ideal, I would still be unhappy.  I’m always wanting more.  I’m never satisfied with myself.  It’s why I’m always so fucking mentally exhausted.  I want to do more and be better all the time.

In the meantime, I comfort myself with the knowledge that in January my plastic surgeon is going to suck out a bunch of my fat and put it in my boobs to soften the edges of my implants.  Taking fat out of my abdomen and thighs and putting it in my boobs…isn’t that every girl’s dream?