I'm No Super Model. Neither are They.

 

    I swear I was promised a super model body. Every diet/weight loss commercial on TV shows the before and after of how the super model found herself underneath her fat rolls. I started my weight loss journey with a preconceived notion that when I was done, I would be a super model.  I would have cut abs, a tight butt, and perfect boobs. My journey has been five years now and I've never woke up perfect; instead I have stretch marks, extra skin, cellulite, and thighs that still touch.  Reality is hard to face, somehow at the end I still felt like I failed.  I found myself at a cross road, a very slippery slope -  I wasn't happy with what I saw but I was healthy. How could I still not be satisfied? When do I stop fighting and start enjoying?

     I took a long look at myself in the mirror. I've never been kind to my body. I've starved it, stuffed it, abused it, and loathed it. I had to call a truce with myself. I had to stop hating myself - I don't want to spend my entire life not enjoying who I am and the package I come in.  This time it wasn't about the number on the scale, it was about love for myself and my body.        

     I accept the extra skin on my arms. My wings, my flab, my wabble, whatever name it goes by. No more am I wearing cardigans in 100 degree weather because I want to hide them. My arms are strong; they pick up, work out, and hug just like everyone else's. The skin is the remnants of a person who is no longer and will never be again. My arms show a part of my story. The extra skin doesn't represent failure, they represent a journey.  The skin is with me forever and forever is a long time to not like a part of myself.

   I accept my stretch marks. I remember when the purple lines formed on my stomach.  I stopped seeing my body after that. I felt ruined. I became a blur to myself, a quick change artist.  I had to listen to my own advice. I tell my son, who is shorter than most children his age, that it is a waste of energy to get upset over something you can not change. His height does not make him who he is as a person and neither do my stretch marks.  I am not kidding myself anymore; EVERYONE has stretch marks. EVERYONE!! They come about for all kinds of reasons and all are natural for the human body. No more will I waste my energy on what I can not change and is also NORMAL!!

     My arms and stretch marks are NOT flaws - they are what makes me human. I am not the only person with extra skin on my arms or stretch marks on my stomach.  Why are we trying to convince others that somehow we are the only person in the world to have never used our bodies? To have never grown, or had a baby, or gained weight?  Our body idols have stretch marks; Marilyn Monroe, Beyonce, Kate Middleton, and everyone else who ever lived. The vernacular used to describe the body needs to change. Erase the word "flaw" and replace it with "normal" and accept the body for what it does.

     I will never be a super model and neither will anyone else. There is no such person. I like this reality; there is a lot less pressure realizing no one has a blemish free body. I am done playing dumb to a culture that assumes I don't know models and actresses are being Photoshopped.  I will not allow these fantasy images to influence the acceptance of my body.  I am human, I am normal, and my body is healthy and strong.  I choose to love myself, to value myself, and to cherish my body.  I will now be removing the "sucker" sticker off my forehead. No one can make me feel bad about myself anymore.

The Imperfections On My Cover

   

     I have always loved books. That is a love that comes from my Dad. I love used book stores the best. Also a love that comes from my Dad. We spent countless hours pouring over books together when I was a child. The smell of old paper is a comfort to me. Walking into a used book stores feel like a place for a great treasure hunt. I have carried that love for old books with me into adulthood. It's from this love that a lesson about my body came about. 

     I used to judge a book by its cover. Not the cover art but the condition of the cover and binding. If the book was torn, creased, lose at the spine, or had dog eared pages I put it down and moved on to the next.  My books had to be perfect. When I brought them home, they stayed perfect. I didn't lend out my books because I didn't want their condition to be compromised.  Now, as an adult, I found it necessary to stop caring about the outer condition of the books I want to read.  My love for the 40's and 50's means most of these books are no longer being published and have been around for some time. I need to grab them when I see them regardless of condition,because I may not find it again. 

     It was a book called "Gracie; A Love Story" by George Burns that taught me a lesson about bodies. This book is no longer printed and if I wanted to read it I would have to get over its appearance. The creased spine, torn corners of the cover, and lose pages didn't take away from the story. The condition of the book didn't change the story at all. I just had to hold the book carefully and try not it to add more wear and tear to it.  When I was finished I placed it on my bookshelf with a smile of satisfaction from reading a great story.  

     The cover made no difference to the story itself, like my body makes no difference as to WHO I am. I come with imperfections on my cover: stretch marks, scars, blemishes, cellulite, and more. Yet none of that changes my heart and soul. My body is the cover to my amazing story. My body has been through a lot and it can show.  Just like the creased spine of a good book, the imperfections themselves show a story.  My body is on a journey and it will get bumps and scrapes on it, as it should. I can tell you stories about each scar, the lessons I've learned along the way. When I am old I will look at the lines on my faces and skin hanging where it didn't before and remind myself that my cover has been through a lifetime of learning and adventure, my body has been used and appreciated. 

     I no longer toss aside the book with the "used" look to it. I no longer toss my body aside and think it broken, used, or ugly. My story has many chapters, my body is just the package in which a great story is held.  I would love to find all my books in mint condition but that's unrealistic; just like thinking our bodies should and can be perfect. Embrace the imperfections, they tell a better story!