Here we go!

Hello all!

Okay, here is where I started on this whole thing. I am the size I am and a number doesn't give me or take away my value. I credit long marathons of "What Not to Where" for this. They are always talking about how the number on the tag has no value except to let you know which way to go if the clothes don't fit.

I know, easy to day, less easy to follow. My thought process went something like this: I have loads of things I don't like about myself. I've got "mummy tummy" that will never go away unless I can afford a psychotic personal trainer that will make me workout for a disgusting number of hours daily, or I want to go under the knife. That's just the way it is. I could lose a zillion pounds and would probably look like a skin covered skeleton with a little skin pooch on my tummy. It's just stretched out skin that proves I've had a kid. Oh well. I'm not willing to give up my life (or my bank account) just to get rid of it. I also am kind of odd-proportioned, so it takes forever to find anything that fits right. My feet are the only thing average sized on my entire body (size 7), but they have low arches and widen in a strange way when I put my weight down which makes shoes fit weird. See what I mean? Everyone has the laundry list of things they don't like about themselves. Is this list EVER going to go away just because you can get into a size (insert your dream size here)? Nope.

I figured that I would just have to accept the things I don't (and probably never will) like but can't change. I can't get taller, I can't have no fuss hair, and I definitly can't change my body's proportions. I have my list of things to work on, but the top priority became getting healthy and in good shape. That shape doesn't have to have a size attached to it, heck, it doesn't even need a weight attatched to it. I figure I'm doing pretty good if I can make it through a full tournament round of Wii Sega Superstars Tennis without wanting to lie down on the floor gasping for breath and complaining for the next 3 days about how many muscles ache that I didn't know that I had. It hasn't been easy, and there are days (actually one particular week) where I can feel that water-retention wiggle and I think "AAAGHHHH!!!!" I know it will pass, but I still gripe about it. I just try not to waste too much time on it.

That acceptance has let me "let go" of fashion I can't wear EVER AGAIN. No tummy bearing tops. Jiggle is not fun for anyone to look at, especially if there is muffin top to go along with it. Leggings make my odd-proportioned legs look like sausages in a too small casing unless I wear something long enough to disguise most of my thighs. I have let go of the dream of a strapless dress or top. Hey, when you don't have much up there, to wear one of those things you either can't breathe (so tight it won't move ever) or you worry that if you let your breath out the garment will be around your ankles. Skinny jeans will NEVER happen for me. Oh, well. I'm not 16 any more, and I really wouldn't want to be (who needs the acne.)

That led to the quest for stuff that WOULD look good on my and would camouflage my faults. Again, long marathons of "What Not to Wear", along with books like Bradley Bayou's "The Science of Sexy" led me to a list of things to look for and things to just walk on by in the stores. Yeah, who doesn't covet the idea of being able to wear short shorts without everything hanging out? It doesn't mean that I think that will ever happen, it just means it is time to walk by with limited depressing wishful thinking.

I know, mind over the evidence in the mirror is never easy. It's an ongoing struggle, even after 6 years. I just try to keep positive, work on what I can, and have a sense of humor about what I can't change. I've come to find that my "mummy tummy" is pretty amusing, and is a good guide for how well my ab workouts are going by the level of wiggle when I walk. I'm the only one who knows, so why not make it my own private joke. The new mantra "Giggle at the jiggle." We'll have to see how well it keeps working....