Still recovering from last week’s change in family status, if you will, and working to get back on some kind of schedule. (Thanks so much to all of you who reached out. I posted a thank you yesterday.) This was meant to be a PEM post but we’ll put it up a day late and hope you enjoy it on a Totally Terrific Tuesday (TTT) instead.
Let’s get real, people: ‘skinny’ is something I’ll never be. It is, however, nice to have come to a new place in my life, one I sort of stumbled on by accident. (Seems I do that a lot. Something to be said for hindsight, I suppose.)
Anyway, having grown up overweight—and still there, though in a healthier place than two years ago—my mom never failed to look at something fashionable on a mannequin without stating, “That’s not for us. That’s for __________ (insert name of thinnest of my friends at the time).” Being pear-shaped has its supposed health benefits but isn’t fun when one is out looking for dresses or sets that are sold as a unit. (We pear-shaped girls tend to be a size bigger beginning at the waist and ending at the knees.) Over the years, I’ve learned how to spot styles that fit a little better, which makes for less frustrating shopping sprees. And recently, I walked out of the store with a dress fit for my favorite Fran Fine. (An awesome day: perfect fit and absolutely no tailoring necessary!)
Okay, sidetracked as usual, but I’m soon to get to the point. Started exercising pretty regularly about two and a half years ago. Those small, consistent efforts have added up for my shoulders and down for the pear part, resulting in a more balanced overall figure. (For those interested, you can access that two-part article here and here.) Hey. The other day I actually saw some deltoid definition—imagine if I were REALLY consistent.
Post point? My body image has changed. I realized this during a recent casual exchange with some long-time male friends. I happened to be chatting with these guys while exiting a church function. (Quick backstory: these guys, who NEVER in all the years they’ve known me said a word about my weight had twice commented on me having lost some about a year prior.) While going down the stairs, I noticed some type of wire that spanned the width of one of the top steps and commented to the guys about how easily a woman’s spike-heeled shoe could get caught in that cord. Being male—and one in particular who prefers his ladies on the less-meat-on-the-bones-is-more type—they immediately goofed about how especially damaging this could be to the stairs should an overweight woman take a tumble.
Of course, I went into hands-on-hips stance coupled with THE LOOK. Their hands took on instant guard pose. “We didn’t mean you!”
“Didn’t think you meant me.”
Here’s the cool part: at that moment, I really got that they did not mean me. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that not only did they not see me as overweight, but for the first time ever yours truly did not see herself this way.
I still have those days when I wish God hadn’t mixed the top and bottom molds. But today, I have those moments when I feel like He didn’t. They took a long time coming, but they’re here. My consistent efforts will hopefully keep those good moments around.
How about you? Has how you see yourself changed in a way you never expected? If so, when and what triggered your ah-ha moment?
Thanks again for all your support and have a great day,