Comfortable in this skin.
I’m not. And I am.
I’ve gained weight. Quite a bit.
I look at you and I don’t see your size, I see your sparkling eyes, your boisterous infectious laugh, your beautiful hair, your captivating smile, your heart, your elegant hands, your adorable sprinkling of freckles, the bounce in your step, your sassy-ness; all the things that make you who you are, the things that endear you to me, draw me to you.
All I see, when I look at me… the excess.
I am completely comfortable in my skin, when I forget. When the image in my head is the one that I believe.. the healthy girl who rocks the hour glass figure and is damn proud of it.
The girl with the strong legs, childbearing hips, curving waist, powerful shoulders.
But right now.. that hour glass is more an hour and a half.. maybe two.
I want to be healthier. for me.
Tonight I watched a video by a friend and her husband and it brought tears to my eyes. That’s love. That’s confidence. She inspires me. I adore her.
She is one of the most beautiful people that I’ve ever known. You can get lost in her eyes and her laughter and smile…magnetic.
I have a vision of who I am. I am a cute, spunky, curvy woman… I always have been.
And yet right now… I’m not happy with my outside.
and I struggle.
I NEVER speak of weight, size, numbers or scales.
Because I have a daughter. A beautiful, athletic girl who thinks that I am gorgeous and perfect and funny and smart and beautiful.
I do not want her to ever see me as anything but. I do not ever want her to see herself as anything but.
However, I know that I need to be healthier, for her. For my son. For my husband, for me.
I want to put clothes on again and enjoy them. I want to walk past a mirror and not have it stop me, and slam me back to reality.
I am not a size 6, I am not a size 8… I am a woman with curves and slopes and I love them; I want to get back to the me who loves them again.
My husband looks at me and runs his hands over my curves and I feel sexy, as long as I don’t look myself.
I want to look at myself and love my body again.
I want to rock my hour glass again.
I do not wish to be thin, I am a food lover. I love to eat, I love to cook, I love to drink, I love to savor.
It is a struggle. It is my own.
I want my outsides to match my insides.
Confident. Laughing. Strong.
I will do this for me.
I will do this for my daughter.
This is my gauntlet to myself.