No Matter the Size

Been doing a lot of soul searching recently. When you lose a parent, and are faced with the loss of the other, life flashes before your eyes and your own health begins to matter in a way it never did before.

When we are young, we think we have forever. We do foolish things, drive way too fast, eat stuff that is really bad for us: greasy fast foods, and play Russian Roulette with the choices we make. But now, as sixty looms before me in a few years, and watching the severe health issues both parents have had to suffer, I have started to think of becoming healthier.

I hate the four letter word diet. It's an evil, awful disgusting word. It conjures up thoughts of carrot and celery sticks. It brings to mind denying the pleasures of chocolate, especially Blizzards with pieces of Butterfinger and Reese Cups. But what if we were to become healthier right where we are. No diet drinks, no joining a gym (because goodness knows, there is certainly no time for that!). If we could do the best WE could do without trying to be someone else.

I observe people around me. I see some who are content with the size they are, even if they are several or many pounds overweight. I also see those who "work out" and eat said carrot sticks and celery pieces and I've compared myself to both of these body types.

It hit me the other day. I am NOT any of those people. I am me. I weigh more than I ever have. I eat for comfort, and sometimes in secret so nobody sees the candy bars I began buying on a daily basis. If I heard more bad news about Mom's health, a quick trip to the store for some chocolate comfort would ensue. But what if I ate what God intended? What if I took the time while grocery shopping to make better choices and pick things that I do like and incorporate them into my daily eating?

About seven days ago, I wrote in my prayer journal. I wrote a prayer to the Lord that He would help me to become healthier. That I could not do this without Him. I'm too weak. I need His guidance. Then when hubby and I went to the store, I carefully purchased Honey Crisp apples, snow peas, cantaloupe and watermelon. I made a plan that ALL of my meals would be cut down in size, and I would eat to glorify God and enjoy the gifts He's given me. My chewing would be slow and deliberate. The colorful array of the new fruits and vegetables actually began to look appealing. And here, seven days later, I have found that I absolutely love the taste. I do need a slight touch of light Ranch dressing on the side, but it's a small dip instead of a huge dunk into the bowl now. My portion sizes on the plate are much smaller, but I eat slowly and enjoy every bite.

Then I asked myself: what can I do for exercise? Instead of making excuses for what I cannot do, I began to do what I can. Whether that means walking in place for about ten minutes in the morning and at night while watching t.v., or taking a small walk outdoors, it's better than sitting and eating chips and dip, (yes, I confess!) to my favorite shows.

This morning, and I praise God, I am down three pounds. Not an easy feat for a foodie, and someone with a slow metabolism. For as we age, and hormones change, it is not easy to drop weight like we used to. No, I'm not dieting. And I do have much farther to go. But this healthy new style has given me hope. It's God-given goals, not my own. It's the knowledge that we CAN do all things through Him! I cannot do anything apart from my Heavenly Father. When He blesses our desires, there is no stopping us.

So, I am not looking to be a stick-thin figure. I'm not judging anyone who can't lose even one pound, for I know only too well what food addiction is like. But for this moment in my life, I need to be a better, more healthy me. I want to be here for whatever is in our path with my mother's failing health. I want to be strong, motivated and clear. I give glory to God for help on this new journey!

P.S. I will treat myself to a Blizzard in the near future. But it will be something to look forward to only every so often instead of the comfort that only the Lord can truly give me.

Love ourselves unconditionally

Last week on Facebook I wrote what I felt was a controversial topic: loving ourselves no matter what our size and shape. Today, I'm going to add to this. Love  ourselves no matter our ages.

We've earned those crows feet and laugh lines, every bump, wrinkle, bulge and gray hair. A long lifetime of raising children, dealing with death of loved ones, aging parents, divorces. All of these have taken their toll on us, and many of us have dealt with some of these numerous times.

As a child, I was a nervous little thing. You see, there were serious issues going on around me, unstable conditions at times. My fears were very real and life was chaotic. It was no wonder food became a comfort. Yet at another time, years later, when a husband walked out on me, leaving me for another, food would no longer matter, and my appetite would suffer.

I'm in my fifties now, living in a culture obsessed with beauty, stick figure barbie doll actresses and models. Diet ads and fads abound. And I'm tired of it all, I tell you. Tired of hiding behind huge, baggy, loose clothing thinking I'm the world's worst human being because I enjoy an ice cream cone, piece of cake or candy bar. Tired of thinking I can seriously lose ten or fifteen pounds to be the "ideal" weight, perhaps the weight I was as a young girl. No, I've earned my love handles, you see. In the real world I live in, my size should not matter. I don't care if you're size 2 or size 22, you are a beautiful woman of God.

How long should it take us to stop the obsession, to give permission to love ourselves right where we are, how we look, at any age, regardless of dress sizes? Why can't we buy clothing that accentuates our good points without worry of hiding the bad? Why can't we eat that brownie without guilt in front of another who is giving us "the look", the one which says, "oh my gosh, I can't believe she's going to eat that."

I've known ladies of all sizes. My own mother was particularly overweight most of her life. A beautiful woman nonetheless. In her older years, food hasn't held the appeal it once did, and she's lost an incredible amount of weight. This was nothing she felt she HAD to do, it was just one of those things I suppose.

I hate something. Why is it that when we see someone who's lost weight, we say: "you look so good?" I say to this: "What did I look like before, crap?" Why can't we learn to compliment our sisters at any size, any age?

Think about it. Don't you enjoy hearing someone say your hair looks particularly good today, or that top looks great on you? If you can't come up with one nice thing to say sometime, then tell a person they have a great smile. A smile is one of the single most beautiful face lifts any woman can have. It lights up the countenance, erasing frown lines and worry. 

You are beautiful, girl. So put that outfit on, get that haircut or style you've always wanted. Wear the sequins, the baubles, get the tattoo. Do it for you, not for anyone else. And to this, I add: pick up that paintbrush, the pen and paper, the crochet hook or some other artistic outlet. Enjoy your life, live it to the fullest. And by all means, love, love, love yourself unconditionally.