This is a result of me being at home too much this week.
Hey. At least I’m sober.
For now. :)
I really don’t diet. I just tend to eat a bit more healthy (if money affords). I really don’t like fast food, ice cream and candy makes my teeth hurt (but I admit to the occasional chocolate binge like any female), and I naturally eat smaller meals as big meals pisses off the Crohns monster. I’ve just never felt the need. Even when I was younger and a bit chunkier (read: 180-200lbs). I like food. I like cooking big meals full of pastas and breads. I love experimenting with different oils and spices. Mmmm homemade garlic bread (thanks Nick for the idea, but I’ve totally tweaked it… soo much better lol). Food. I love it.
Exercise? Eh. I don’t belong to a gym and only regularly (see: daily) work out in the winter months. My summer months are full of jogging at the forest preserve, quads (and now dirt-bikes), water sports and general mayhem. During all four seasons, I go dancing at least once a week. An hour of non-stop dancing and I’ll break a good sweat, but I’m long past the days of burning muscles. But a gym? Nah. I’m broke, and even when I have money, I can find other things to spend that money on. I don’t see my summer and dance activities as exercise. I don’t. I just do them because they’re fun. My winter work outs? If I don’t do them I feel sluggish and more tired than normal. Meh. I just feel blah.
So I was talking to one of my guy friends the other night and had poked him in his belly. He made a comment about wanting his six pack back. Which in my opinion, that’s cool, but he doesn’t look bad now. But eh, not my body. I said “Well, I got a lot of sleeping muscle on my stomach.” while poking it, (I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t consider making my belly button talk) and he said “Well, you’ve had a kid, that’s acceptable” and I said “I know” then promptly put it out of my head. It occurred to me earlier that according to the rest of society I should’ve been self-conscious at that moment. I just didn’t think about it.
I guess I have a lot of self-confidence. I’ve been told I have an ego (that could compete with a DJ’s). Meh. I know my body is flawed. I have actually had two children. LoL to those childless out there, pregnancy and birth rarely leaves you in perfect condition.
Stretchmarks. I has them. ALL OVER. I have them on my stomach, my thighs, my back, I’m sure in some other places Id rather not be looking with a mirror. But I have them. I have a regular weight (re: Crohns can suck it, I’m maintaining yay!) and about a size 1-3. But you see my stomach and you’ll go “well Gee, Sarah, you know that looks like a road map”. The extra skin? It makes making my belly button talk that much easier. You know what else children did for me? I’ve always been built like a 13 year old boy… but now I have hips. Not as flabby muscley stuff. I have WIDE HIP BONES. They are higher and wider than pre-children. I often sport “muffin top”… but the sad part, it’s not soft and sensual like guys supposedly prefer. It’s fucking bone. I literally (no lie, ask around) have injured people by swinging my hip into them. No joke. Oh and boobs? Yeah I has them… they fit into a training bra. A little bit less than a handful. But meh. I’m good.
But you know. Unless I’m literally sitting here thinking about it.. it just doesn’t cross my mind. My hips and lack of chest and ass doesn’t keep me off the dance floor. My stretch marks don’t keep me from being intimate with someone I care about. I just don’t care. Even when I was heavier. Sure I had a belly, but meh that didn’t stop me from doing what I wanted. I still went out and hung out and talked to my friends and cute guys. Even when I was deathly skinny, I really didn’t think about it (all though I did have a bad month after I got out of the hospital when I realized how skinny I was, and that month it did bother me, but I could play my ribs like xylophone). I was just me.
I’m me. There’s things I can’t change, like my stretch marks, and there’s things I don’t desire to change, like my cup cake binge I’m planning later tonight. I have flaws. So do other girls. So do guys. No one is perfect, and up until just recently I didn’t realize that it was uncommon to be happy with what you have.
Moral of the story: You have flaws. Big deal. If you really want to change them, get to work, but in the mean time, love what you have! Why spend time hating a part of your body? Why waste that time. get healthy, enjoy being active, and if there’s something you cant change? Accept it. Ask Noodle, she loves my talking belly button.