Currently, I am at my heaviest weight, 145 pounds (as of a few weeks ago, I don’t weigh myself often, cause the number doesn’t really matter to me. UPDATE, upon a visit to the docs a few days ago they weighed me and I'm down 10 pounds but this post is still every bit as relevant). I don’t mind telling the internet what I weigh, because I am not ashamed of my body, which is why I am writing this. I honestly and fully love my body, I love the size, textures, color, and shape. When I say that, I’m not holding thoughts in the back of my head going “I love my body… except when I sit down and I have a tummy roll…” Or “I love my body! I just don’t love the jiggle in my thighs when I run.”
NO. I freaking LOVE my whole BODY. I’m not picking and choosing. Not anymore.
Recently, after finding out I weigh 145, I had a little sit down with myself to get my mind back to where it needed to be. I had weighed myself in front of my husband, he had found a scale in the hotel room and brought it out to show how much weight he had lost… knowing that I had gained pounds, I was hesitant to get on. I hadn’t seen him in 7 months… though he had already seen my body intimately in the days before, for some reason I thought that number would make him view me differently… even though he had already seen my body… see where I’m going with this?
It's so ridiculous.
66 popped up on the scale. I was confused. I should be deathly thin. 66 pounds?
Wait… I was in Dubai. That was in Kilos.
Holding out hope that I had lost weight from a recent challenge group I had participated in, I whipped out my phone and failed in an attempt to see the results before my husband. “145 pounds” he said. I refused to believe him. “Yeah, right. Hang on…that can’t be right.” my phone was taking its sweet time before it threw it’s results in my face. 145. Dang. I had gained five pounds in a month. A month that I was actually working out and eating well… what the heck!?
My husband is a guy (obviously) and spoke in common guy language to me by suggesting I just needed to work out more and started asking me about my daily routine. I know he was honestly trying to help and was speaking to me the way he would motivate his guy friends… problem is, I was already shook up from the scale mocking my hard work, I only heard his advice as a grill session showing me that I obviously wasn’t trying hard enough to lose weight.
STOP. STOP. STOP.
That wasn’t the point! I didn’t start working out and eating better to lose weight. I didn’t do it for my husband (which was something I had to vigorously keep reminding myself). I didn’t do it for ANYONE. I did it for ME and guess what? I LOVE my body. I can stand in the mirror and smile because I truly love how I look.
Whenever I start to feel insecure in my skin, a rude memory is standing ready to pop in and make things worse. I remember a distant family member once saying “Wow! Did you lose weight? You look great!” after not seeing me for a while. When in fact I had stopped working out months before, and was just getting over an insecure slump in my life. Thanks. They obviously thought that I had weight to lose from the tone of their voice, and if I did lose weight, then I must have looked better without it.
Yay, super awesome, confidence BOOST.
I’ve recently realized that if I am basing my decisions and views about my body on others opinions… then I am doing it SO wrong. I love my husband, I want him to be proud of me and show me off, but I’m not going to workout for him. I love my family and know they care about my health, but I’m not going to workout for them. I’m not going to work out for society, because I’ll never fit in anyways. I’m just not going to workout for the expectations of others, because what kind of life is that?
When I workout, you can bet your buttooskie I am working out for ME. For the rush of adrenaline. For the soreness the next day that I crave. For the boost of energy. Not for the abs. Not for the loose fitting clothes. Not for the tighter skin. Not for the compliments.
Side effects of this attitude may include a repaired relationship with cameras, genuine smiles, happier shopping trips, and an improved outlook on the personal journeys of others.
Your core motivation will determine if you succeed or not. Choose it wisely.
So here's some bodaayy positivitiaayy, will you choose to love yourself?