No F-ing Way

The other night I did something against my better judgement. I went to a "Panty Party".  Settle down, it's not as risque as it sounds.  Essentially, a bunch of women get together at this local lingerie boutique to drink champagne and try on bras. Okay, maybe it is as risque as it sounds.  But that has nothing to do with why I didn't want to go.

In case you didn't already know this, I'm a bit self-conscious about my body - especially my boobs.  If I had to choose one part of my body that I would never have to look at again there would be a knock-down-drag-out between my boobs and my muffin top. Muffin top would probably win, but boobs would definitely go down fighting.

So, it's no surprise that the thought of trying on bras with other women - women who happen to be younger, thinner and higher/fuller/more appropriately-chested that I am was not high on my list.  So, why in the world would I go?

First, I adore the friend who invited me.  The combination of the Spicy Chicken's travel, the girls' school/sports schedules and my influx of work lately has allowed little room for anything else. I was really craving time with girlfriends.  Secondly, I caught myself saying - aloud in front of M - that I didn't want to go because I "hated" my body. Yep, get out the cuffs because I totally deserve to go to Teen Parenting Jail for that one!  While my girls are not oblivious to my weight, I have always tried to make a point of telling and showing them that I love myself regardless of my size, and that my focus is always on my HEALTH. Oops.  So I had to do a little doubling back to show her that I wasn't afraid of getting naked with all those skinny bitches because damn if I'm not proud of the big 'old boobs that God gave me.  And lastly, I really actually needed some new bras.

I ended up having a really good time and - as a bonus - got to spend some quality time with a few friends I hadn't seen in awhile. While some women were completely okay with trying on bras in front of other people, some were not -  either was totally acceptable.  I kept to one of the back dressing rooms with the curtain closed, of course, but nobody seemed to care - or even notice for that matter.  While I admit it completely threw me off when the saleswoman brought me a 34F to try on, my boobs looked so freakin' awesome in that bra that I bought two of them!

Moral of the story is - sometimes you just have to let go of your insecurities because they are just that - yours.  The people who love and know you don't care what size pants or shirt or bra you wear.  They love you for who you are - and if you spend your life hiding behind your weight you will miss out on a lot of good times.  And that, my friends, is the f-ing truth.

Boobs

Got your attention, didn't I? And though much to the dismay of my male readers there won't be any skin showing here, but I am actually going to talk about boobs today.  Well, sort of. 


A few weeks ago at cycling I walked in on one of my classmates having a conversation with Hyam about what she was wearing.  It was an adorable tank top from lululemon that she had received when Hyam was asked to be an Ambassador.  While it was a really cute top and looked incredible on her, it definitely was not something she was used to wearing.  This woman, in spite of her long, thin, beautiful body usually works out in a baggy t-shirt.  Now I, of all people, am not knocking the baggy t-shirt or the fact that she wears one as I don mine as often as possible, I'm just stating a fact to prove a point so keep reading okay? 

Their conversation led to our open adoration of another classmate who was recently introduced to the world of beautiful (and often pretty sexy) lululemon workout wear.  Like typical women we commented on how incredible she looked in said clothing and the fact that she's blessed because not only is she tall and thin (which comes somewhat naturally but also from working out like a mad woman) she also has an incredible rack. Yep, we actually said rack.  And trust me, it was meant as a high compliment.  She's beautiful and she's got great boobs.  And though she sounds like the kind of woman you want to hate - she happens to be beautiful on the inside, too.  Really.

I recalled that in college I whined about my "Barely B's" and how I couldn't wear some of the things my "Sexy C" friends could.  Oh how I wished for boobs to fill out that strapless dress I was wearing to formal (yes, I thought of that as a major issue in my life at the time).  Now, however, I'm consumed by "important" things like whether or not soccer practice will be canceled tonight and I'm thoroughly disgusted with the DD's I acquired as my weight increased. I long for the days of wearing inexpensive bras from Target and a single sports bra for high-impact exercises.  And, of course, to be able to even think about wearing a strapless dress. 


My long, tall friend in the sexy tank top commented that this is, unfortunately, something that plagues most women she knows.  No matter what we look like most of us ever seem satisfied with it.  A woman with gorgeous, naturally curly hair wishes for smooth, straight locks - a woman with the long legs desires to shop in the petite section - the woman I am at 38 desires the boobs of the girl I was at 20.  The grass is always greener, isn't it?


Of course, there's nothing wrong with wanting to improve your health, strength, self-esteem, etc. - that's a big part of what this blog is based on.  But I'd also love to see more of us accepting - and loving - who we are - which is the other half of what I'm striving for in this journey I continue to take.


In doing research for this blog post I came across what lululemon calls their "manifesto"  which I've posted below. I found these words very inspiring so I thought I'd share it (you can find the text and pdf versions at www.lululemon.com/about/manifesto#).  It's hard sometimes on this journey to not of focus on the physical (and therefore more tangible) aspect of what's happening, but rather on what is truly important - what's happening inside.  So as I continue to move forward I am going to "Breathe Deeply - Dance, Sing, Floss & Travel" and I'm going to focus on loving the person I am, regardless of my bra size.

Confidence

I often hear comments from people who knew me as a teenager who read this blog like "I had no idea you struggled with your weight so much" or "I never knew you had such an issue with your self-esteem."  Though my performance as "Airport Announcer #1" in the White Bear Lake Area Central Junior High School production of "Central Follies 1987" would give you the impression otherwise, I am apparently, quite a good actress.

It's well known that someone who appears overly confident is often quite insecure on the inside.  Bullies, for example, are often the most insecure people around.  While I was definitely never a bully (nor am I now), I learned when I was young to mask my insecurities by expressing outward confidence. Somehow my successes didn't convince me, however, that I had reasons to be confident and I never quite felt good enough.  I struggle with this still today, but I've definitely learned just how fortunate I am.

Every time I look in my daughters' eyes I realize how blessed I am and it inspires me to keep this journey moving along.  Not because of a desire to be skinny (though let's be real, of course I want to look good!) but because I want to be strong and healthy (inside and out) and be a good role model for them.  I want that confidence that I exude to be as real as the innocence on their faces and the love I feel for them in my heart.  And I'm getting there, one step at a time.  

Learning to Love

About 6 months after the Spicy Chicken and I got engaged I called off the wedding.  We were living together at the time so he went to stay with his parents for a few days to sort through his own feelings.  When he got back he told me he loved me but he couldn't love me enough for both of us - I needed to learn to love myself.

Sounds like a line out of a movie, but it's a true story. It forced me to do some major soul searching.  Did I really not love myself?  Turns out I didn't even like myself all that much, but I  did love him, so I took steps to get there.  Hard to imagine that with all that therapy I'm right back where I started.

I love a lot of people.  And I actually love a lot of things (like really great shoes, a fabulous glass of wine, the sound of the ocean, etc).  Ironic then, isn't it, that I'm finding it so difficult to love myself?

This isn't a new revelation.  I've struggled with it my whole life - which is again ironic, considering that I was raised in a house with a lot of love.  My parents, who were high school sweethearts, just celebrated their 45th Anniversary. They came to my games - celebrated my successes - and stuck by me when I made mistakes.  I'm sure I hated them when I was a teenager, but they were terrific parents and I knew that even then.  My sister and I did the normal sibling thing - arguing over clothes, fighting over the bathroom, throwing forks at one another (or maybe that was just me) - but I was always pretty sure she loved me (would she have told me about the dead bodies and flamingoes if she didn't?).  She's my best friend.

Looking back I realize I had what others probably thought was an enviable life (it was).  Yet no matter what I did I was never satisfied with what I achieved.  I've often thought that this insatiability helped push me harder and thus achieve more, but I've found that it can also work in the opposite direction.  I see that now quite clearly.  

Despite all the love that people are showing me and the progress that I've made (inside and out) I still find it hard to feel good about it.  So I've lost 12 pounds - why haven't I lost 15?  My face looks thinner - why is my stomach still so fat? I'm working my ass off in class - why aren't I working harder?  Negative self talk.  I remember it well.  

So, add this to the list of things I need to work on.  Gosh, it's getting long....