One of My Curses...

“...I have noticed that when things happen in one's imaginings, they never happen in one's life, so I am curbing myself.” 
                   --Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle

I can never curb myself.

Fit

I have edited and deleted this post so many times because I am not certain I should share it with the world. As you will soon read, I don't think this topic should get as much air time as it does, but I am hoping that organizing my thoughts into a chain of words, that are acceptable enough for others to read, will allow me to unravel the idea in my head, and I can leave it all behind. This post is about body image and my own feelings about what can be done to eradicate this eater of accomplishment and health in women.

Usually, I am happy with my body. I would even venture to use the word confident--which is rare for me. But sometimes I encounter issues with myself that just lead to further destruction.

The day before Thanksgiving, I was getting dressed after taking a shower, and I didn't like the way my thighs looked. They just seemed completely unacceptable. I have no idea how they should be changed or what my perfect idea was, but what I saw in the mirror wasn't it. And then I put on my size 0 jeans and they were loose in the waist. That's when I felt selfish and stupid.

How was I not okay with my body?! I am so blessed with good genes, health, and the ability to be active.The doubts just fostered more doubts. It's vicious. I felt what I know are lies eat up the confidence that I gain from feeling like a more-than-decent person.

The media gets blamed a lot for poor body image and eating disorders, but I think this is too easy. We are making it a scapegoat and ignoring the real issue. Honestly, I am beginning to think that the perception of the media's influence on body image is one of the Adversary's counterfeits. If he can get us to believe that we don't have very much power in how women feel about themselves or how women should look, he has gotten us. I think the true source of body image issues lies in our need for love and a place in the grand scheme of things. We have to believe that we can change things. We can't place blame on anyone else or anything because then we don't have the power to make change. We can't mend ourselves.

It is kind of terrifying to think that I have no idea what will lead me to be 100% satisfied with my body. I know it will probably never happen while on this earth. My greatest distress comes from the fact that I have no idea what my body really looks like. Measurements and dress sizes don't paint an accurate picture of the whole effect. And I know my own head messes with my perceptions in horrendous ways. I take it as a good sign that I don't aspire to have the legs of a certain celebrity though. It allows me to realize I am feeding my own dissatisfaction; I have control. And I think I have come up with an answer for myself.

Don't think about it.

It seems hard. And sometimes it is. But I spent a lot of the Summer in a swimsuit in front of boys, and I didn't think about it. I was happy and had a lot of fun.Questioning myself didn't cross my mind.

And I think it all comes down to the contentment in my life. I am choosing that word because happiness is often fleeting and transitory, but being content is sturdy and more trustworthy. All Summer, I felt good about who I was and the friends I have and where I thought I was heading. When I realized I had no plan and was heading home, I let the little platform of contentment I created chip in places. Questioning just leads to more questioning.

So I am going to work at not thinking about it. I am going to find the things that make me love life, and in-turn myself. And I am going to try not to talk about it because it inevitably makes it worse. I understand this post doesn't offer a solution to obesity in America, but it has helped me understand my own needs. Right now it really all comes down to finding my place in this world.

"Where are you now? Do you ever think of me in the quiet, in the crowd?"*

A Place in Thy Memory

            Gerald Griffin (1803-1840)

A PLACE in thy memory, Dearest!

  Is all that I claim:

To pause and look back when thou hearest

  The sound of my name.

Another may woo thee, nearer;

  Another may win and wear;

I care not though he be dearer,

  If I am remember'd there.

Remember me, not as a lover

  Whose hope was cross'd,

Whose bosom can never recover

  The light it hath lost!

As the young bride remembers the mother

  She loves, though she never may see,

As a sister remembers a brother,

  O Dearest, remember me!

Could I be thy true lover, Dearest!

  Couldst thou smile on me,

I would be the fondest and dearest

  That ever lov'd thee:

But a cloud on my pathway is glooming

  That never must burst upon thine;

And heaven, that made thee all blooming,

  Ne'er made thee to wither on mine.

Remember me then! O remember

  My calm light love,

Though bleak as the blasts of November

  My life may prove!

That life will, though lonely, be sweet

  If its brightest enjoyment should be

A smile and kind word when we meet

  And a place in thy memory.

*From Mumford and Sons' "Where Are You Now?"

The Stuff I'm Made Of

Last night while I sobbed silently while finishing The Fault in Our Stars (I highly recommend it!), I realized how much I relish those moments. When everyone is asleep and I can't stop reading by the dim light next to my bed but I don't want it to end and leave it all behind. (I get really attached. On my way to work, I had to force myself not to think about my favorite lines of dialogue, so I wouldn't start crying.) As I reveled in the solitude that makes me feel like there are people who are made out of the same stuff as me, I thought about how these late nights with books won't last forever. For one, I don't know that I would be as engrossed with someone sleep-breathing next to me, and then when I have kids, I will probably be too exhausted (or just wiser with my time). But those thoughts were before I got out of bed to get a Kleenex. Stupidly, I let myself see the trailer to Mama play in my head as if it were happening in my hallway. I ran to my bed as soon as I could, sliding to the middle to avoid any hands reaching out from under my mattress. I had to fall asleep listening to nice songs to keep myself from the terror. And then that left me wishing for the days that I can crawl into bed, wipe my tears, and not be afraid because someone will be there that will understand what I am made of. Or at least want to.

Side Effects of The Hobbit

The other night everyone in my dream was speaking in an Elvish accent. For some reason I just knew that's what the accent was. It cannot be created out of the dreamstate.

On the job front

I haven't given an update about my job. And honestly there isn't much to say. I was doing nothing for so long that this kind of feels like something to just take up my time. I forget that I am even getting paid. Which makes payday a nice surprise, even if the numbers aren't ideal. I think I have fallen into a different state of nothingness and boredom because I don't often have to think or feel stressed at work. I don't think I have found my calling yet.