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.