In My Own Skin

Confession:  I weigh thirty-six pounds more than I did when I graduated high school nearly twenty (gasp) years ago, and twenty pounds more than when I got married.  Somewhere in the middle was my "ideal" weight, where I was more than comfortable in my own skin.  And hey, I was in the Marines at the time, so I was pretty much in peak physical condition.

Over the last 14 years of marriage I've added a few pounds and five children to my life.  I bear the scars and varicose veins from growing people, and I harbor more than a few doubts about my self-image.

How can my husband still find me attractive?  (He does, and lets me know it quite frequently.)  Is it even possible to get back down to that "ideal" weight?  Should I even try to get there, or should I just be happy with the way that am?

I have young girls growing into young ladies, and I want them to have a healthy self-image that doesn't focus on weight, but on health.  At eleven, my oldest has already had friends picking on her about her weight.  It's devastating to her to have a friend say that she looks pregnant.  It's devastating to me as her mother to have to console her and try to nurture a health vs. weight attitude when I have a hard time with it on a daily basis.

Many of my friends are on a life-changing journey to change their body image and get healthy.  I applaud them, truly!  They have great willpower and dedication and are an inspiration to many people.

One day I'll get there.  For now, I've arranged a thirty minute slot in the day for exercise, and I'm eating less junk and more good stuff.  I'm trying to eat treats in moderation, but I have a horrible monster of a sweet tooth.

But the questions remain, the ones I mentioned up there at the beginning.  What are the answers?  They may not be correct, but these are the conclusions that I've come to in thinking and praying on this.

I have wrinkles on my face, but it just means that I laugh and smile a lot.

My arms are a little flabbier than I'd like, but they can pick up babies and hug children.  My arms may not be as trim as I'd like, but they snuggle my little ones tight to my chest.

Speaking of chest, my "girls" sag a little.  I don't look like 23-year old me anymore.  But my breasts have suckled five beautiful children for varying amounts of time.

My stomach ... well, it's kind of chubby.  A lot chubby, and it's my least favorite part of my body.  There are scars covering the entire part of my abdomen and then some.  But I got those scars carrying five sweet babies in my body, and I love every line and wrinkle.  They are my battle scars.

The rear end is a little on the wide side.  That's okay.  My husband really likes it.  He tells me so.

I have chicken legs.  Always have and I always will.  But my legs let me chase giggly children around the house, carry me around so that I can do my work and get me where I need to go.

How many times day do I thank the Lord that I have hands and feet, eyes and ears, arms and legs?  Yeah, they're not in perfect condition.  And yes, I know I could put forth the extra effort and in a couple of years get back to prime  physical condition.  But at this point in my life, I need -- NEED -- to be content with what I've got.  It's a spiritual thing for me.  When I get there, I'll work on the physical even more than I am already.

But for me, and my daughters, I want to be comfortable in my own skin.  I'm getting there.