The Beauty of a Woman BlogFest III

This post is part of August McLaughlin’s Beauty of a Woman blogfest. She suggested writing an encouraging letter to your least favorite body part. Her blog and other entries can be found at http://augustmclaughlin.wordpress.com.  

not me

Dearest Loathsome Midsection of Mine,

You crept up on me so stealthily that I hardly recognize you. I can’t say that I like you very much, if the truth be told, but I’m sure you really don’t care. You’ve changed, and I don’t like the transformation. Years ago, you were practically unnoticeable when I unveiled you in only a bikini top, cut-offs and flip flops during summertime and wasn’t embarrassed. Perhaps that was simply adolescent naivete of someone fooling herself.

So many things in my life are different now. Age and slower metabolism is taking its toll. Bad habits have ingrained themselves, no matter how innocuous they seemed at first. Yes - I know I need to give up sugar, pasta and Diet Coke. Bagels are not kind to me. Chocolate is not my friend, regardless of how good it tastes at that moment.

Don’t even talk to me about the gym, damn you!

You honestly deserve some credit. You held my baby while his body and mind developed, while my “advanced maternal age,” as they called it, did me no favors. My son was nestled safely within my body while he waited to face the world, and his is the greatest gift of my life.  

While I owe you thanks for accomplishing that herculean task, I’m still fighting against you. A metamorphosis took place after the doctor performed a c-section and later a hysterectomy. It’s not his fault, though, because hormone changes (or the absence thereof) necessitate lifestyle changes. Knowing that now doesn’t make me fit in clothes any more comfortably until I do more about it. I need to be healthy enough to see as much of my son’s life as possible.

That’s why I go to yoga class even when I don’t feel like it. I glare at you in the mirrored wall while I try to stifle all the negative self-talk going on in my head. Giving you the stink eye does no good. It’s funny how I feel so much better afterward, although my brain played tricks on me and said I could skip a day because I was too tired or had something else to do. Becoming even more active could bring about the weight loss I want.

Ultimately, the way you look is not the sum total of who I am. You are a part of my physical self but not who I am as a person, a woman, a mother. My family and friends see the real me, not just the size 6 I used to be or the size 10-going-on-12 I am now. My stomach, waist and hips do not determine my beauty or my worth.

How I live and how I love are what make me beautiful. So I’ll continue to try to convince myself of that fact and not suffer over days long gone. Funny, I don’t remember if I was happier back when I looked different. I can only worry about being happy now, and you can’t keep me from it.

Sincerely,

Me

P.S. I just ate a fun-size Butterfinger and loved every second of it. 

  

(image via collectivewizdom.com)

August encourages us all to share our thoughts on beauty, and comments are welcome below. How do you define beauty? What makes you feel beautiful? Any thoughts to share on this year’s fest overall?