Reddish Musings

If you are a female ranging from the age of 13 to 90 in this era, you are probably aware that the shape you are in determines a lot about how you feel and how others view you. If you fall in this age range, you probably have endured many different diets, lifestyle changes, programs, seminars, book groups, rededications to a healthy life, etc. But what really changes?

Not much, as far as I can tell. Me, I've ranged in weights from the upper 280's to the lower 200's. That's a grown child that I've gained and lost in my short life of 19 years, and I'm still working. Still striving to reach a goal that is even to this day only vaguely defined.

Thinner? Maybe. That'd be nice, sure. Healthier? That sounds closer, but in what regards? Do I measure my success in weight, in how much I can lift, in how far I can run (hahaha), in how long I can walk until my asthma kicks in, in what size my pants are? I don't know. I still don't. I've read a lot of books, a lot of blogs, and I still have no idea.

All I know is that I want to feel better. That's a lofty goal, maybe, but it's not really that hard to attain, either. Feeling better starts with the inside and works its way out. That's the difference between dieting and looking to be better. I don't think my worth is gauged on that scale in an inverse relationship - I've seen the pictures of girls who make it close to the 0 side of the scale, and they seem to be pretty miserable.

I don't think I'm ever going to be thin. I don't think I'm ever going to be absolutely satisfied with the body I've been given. Welcome to being human, right?

I do think I can take better care of myself. I do think I can exercise and build muscle and feel more alert and active and healthier. I think I can weigh less and I can wear smaller clothes and feel more comfortable when snuggling with my boyfriend.

But I don't think that will make me happy. I don't think that surgery, weight loss, exercise, any of that, can make me happy. The only thing that can cause happiness is an alleviating of worry and stress. Acceptance.

Things may change. Things may not change.

And I'm okay with that. I just want to try.

I promise not to beat myself up. Much. Cept for one week. That week doesn't count.

Ta!
~Red~