The Body Project
I can squeeze it all in my jeans, cover it with my shirt, all the size, the tummy, the stretch marks. No one can see. Two children and 43 years, I am no longer that stick thin, straight haired, string bikini wearing little girl.
I would go to work on construction sites and heads would always turn, comments would be made, "nice you know what...," and I would cringe. Is that all you see??? With one of them, one of those gawkers, I fell in love, "You're fat," he said again and again, it made me so sad. How could you say that to me??? Did my sons hear him calling me that, I don't know, but one day they will grow up and find love, not grow up to hurt another with their words. I teach them to understand difference, that each of us is special and unique in our own way, beautiful.
I turned that corner and haven't looked back, I'm a beautiful person, a beautiful mom, beautiful to my sons, and like it or lump it, I am me, love me and and my body for what it is and what I am, or forget about me.
It’s all about 118. That’s my magic number.
I love my body when the scale says 121 because I’m on my way to 118. I hate it when the scale says 127. What a difference the number 6 can make.
I know I have a problem, that may or may not be fixed. I have to live with that. All my problems go away with 118.