Part Deux (Getting Preachy)

This started out as a comment in response to the post below this one. But I think it deserves more. I wish I knew the answers as to how I got into the mindframe that I am in. I have no idea how much I weigh. None. I can give you a ballpark... over 200 lb, under 250 lb. I stepped on a scale back in July and it almost made me quit my brand new gym membership. Scales make me feel hopeless. Measuring makes me feel frustrated. Like... it will never be enough. During my workout today (which was a butt-kicking, led by a trainer class), I was thinking more and more about this entry. Why do I work out? Someone else in the class was talking about her diet... doing Weight Watchers. Hey- if it works for you, go for it. But I'm not there with a weight loss goal. I'm not there to achieve a certain something. Why am I there? Why do I care about getting 10K steps everyday? Why do I care about how much weight I can lift and how many reps? Bottom line. I don't. I don't care about my personal achievements. I don't care what my body looks like. Will I be excited when I walk or run a 5K? Absolutely. Will I be excited to buy new pants in a smaller size? Of course. Does my self image, my self esteem, my self worth get defined by pounds or pants size or minutes I can run? No way. The reason I am working out... my kids. I can chase my kids farther. I can go on walks with Teagan as she rides her tricycle. I can skip and hop and dance without losing my breath. I can chase up and down the hallway. I can squat and bend and twist and hop up again. If I didn't love my body the way it is now, losing 50 pounds wouldn't change that. If I didn't love myself the way I am now, losing 5 dress sizes wouldn't change that. It's a symptom vs sickness thing, in my opinion. This is a topic I frequently get passionate about. Because it hurts me when I hear beautiful, strong, passionate, intelligent women berating themselves, hating themselves, abusing themselves, hurting themselves based on their skewed perception of their body image. I also believe that my soulmate, my best friend, my biggest source of support and love and loyalty is... me. Would I constantly tell my closest friends how horrible they look? How fat they look? How unattractive or stupid or hideous or ugly they are? Can I even imagine feeling that way about the people in my life that I love and care about? Could I ever say such things to my daughter? My son? Dear God, I pray that I never have such a hard heart. And if I can't be cruel in such a fashion to people that I love, why on earth would I be so cruel to myself? AND My daughter is an extension of myself. She has my nose, my feet, my cheekbones, and other features. She hears from people... "You look like your Mommy! You look just like your Daddy!" If she is hearing those messages... and then hears Mommy (or Daddy) berating those features, putting themselves down, hating their own looks... doesn't it stand to reason that she will learn to hate those things, too?

I believe in the power of positive thinking. Of the importance of loving yourself. Of deleting the negative self talk, self abuse. Of recording new, positive, uplifting, hopeful, kind messages. Of being my own very bestest friend.

I believe that all of you are beautiful, creative, intelligent, awesome, positive, life-changing people. And my prayer, my wish... is that you see it when you look in the mirror.