Levis are omnipotent. At least, I have granted the four pairs of size 8 jeans sitting in my bottom drawer that level of power for the last 2 years and four months. They have had the power to make me miserable. They have had the power to give me extreme joy (they haven't done that yet) and they have controlled my self-esteem.
Come November, I plan to wrest their evil power from their too-small crotches and miniscule waistbands by DI-ing the dang things. I often think about burning them (along with my double jogger), but that would be wasteful, so I'll give them away.
I'm tired of wishing to fit into them. I'm tired of sucking my waist in and barely getting the button shut. I'm tired of "fitting" into them only to have my skin newly lined with aching cutmarks in a few hours. And I'm tired of endlessly kvetching about it to and with all the other healthy, beautiful, talented and with-it women that join me in throwing the smack-down to our bodies.
I'm done. I'm happy with my body. I want my daughters and the young women I teach and all the women around me to know that I love my body. I am healthy. I am 2 sizes larger than I was before I had children. I workout and I try hard to eat well. And I'm okay. I'm glad. I'm lucky. I work hard for my body and dang, I look good.
Why November? Since giving birth to Hannah the all-powerful Levis have mocked me from their throne, and I have been chasing an elusive ideal-- I would fit back into them. I would! I would! I ran a marathon. I ran a 19-min 5K (that was last year). I helped my team win a 24-hour relay race. I did two parts of a triathlon. I joined a gym. I exercised religiously. Off and on I've tried restricting my sweets and dessert intake as well. That hasn't gone as well as I wanted. I have a serious sweet tooth.
My weight fluctuates 5-10 pds above "ideal." And still the Levis sit in their drawer. And I complain. And I whine. And I say, "I'm just too fat. If I could just drop 5 pounds." And I'm annoying myself and probably everyone around me.
This contest I'm having with Mike, which includes a point a day for exercise, eating no sweets and scripture reading, is my full-health test and it ends in November. Besides exercising regularly I am truly giving eating healthy a good try. This contest is a good effort. It's an honest, maintainable effort as well. Come Thanksgiving, when the contest ends, I will know that my body is happy at whatever weight it is. That will be my new ideal.
In the meantime, I will refrain from falling into the trap of complaining about weight and "how I used to fit into those." And I will stop saying, "I see now why women get plastic surgery." And I will stop scrutinizing pictures to see how much fatter I look now than I used to. And I will think to myself, "Dang. I look good. I feel good. I am good."
And come November those evil omnipotent Levis will be gone.
I'm working on loving what I have. Won't you?
The butterfly does not wish to be a caterpillar again. Why should we as mothers wish for our old caterpillar bodies? :)
Other excellent posts about body image:
From the Segullah Blog
This entry, "Beauty in the Age of Plastics" is really though-provoking. I like the comment trail as well. Also, this CJane entry, "Sweet Cheeks" is a nice 'love yourself' continuation. It references the excellent "To Young Women" talk by Elder Holland
Next, from Mormon Mommy Wars we have "Insecure" by Heather O. Her invitation to name one thing you love about yourself is wonderful.