So, about two weeks ago I did something i've never done before and never wish to do again. I took a big, big fall on some hard, hard floor and bruised (or broke, who knows?) my tailbone. No biggie, I thought. I'll take some time off, I'll eat my protein, I'll set up a heating pad and I'll be back in action in no time! So, a week went by... I started to feel my neuroses creeping in. "It's me, your muffin top, I'm getting bigger by the second, dude. You should probably go for a run." What?! I can't run, I can barely get out of my bed without a yelp and this horrible feeling I can only describe as my butt is going to somehow fall out of my butt. Let's try meditating. Be calm. Breathe in. You're fine. Breathe out. You're gonna heal. OH MY GOD SITTING STILL HURTS SO BADLY. Okay, get up, time for your favorite meditation: dancing around the living room to some guilty pop music hits. Yes, Brit. Yes, RiRi. WHOA THIS ISN'T WORKING EITHER I NEED TO BE HORIZONTAL OR NOTHING. Cue tylenol pop, cue tears.
One week later... I'll do some gentle yoga. Nope, can't bend over! Can't run. Can't bike. Can't lift. "It's me, your giant butt. Remember how you do like, 500 squats a week to keep me perky and awesome? say hello to some sad grandma sag all up in this." HUH? Shut up, butt! Are you really sagging already? How fast does muscle degrade? I should google that... 2 weeks?? What?? Okay, Angie, close the computer.
I'm telling you this not because I have the immediate solution to my problem but to let you know I'm owning the problem all these years later and I'm dealing with it every day, like you are. Everyone has that naggy bitch in their head telling them they're not thin/curvy/feminine/fit enough. Women experience an average of 13 negative thoughts about their body every day. Loving yourself is a hard ass full time job that's nowhere near as simple as criticizing and punishing. Maybe you're not getting emails from your back rolls like I seem to be pulling in lately, but we all know how brutal the full length mirror can be.
Truth is, most days I'm pretty stoked on that pear-shaped, uneven-skin-toned, substantially-assed mirror image. How? 'Cause my body is how I express my story, my soul, my love. It serves me every day, the best it can and I have to honor that. Whatever number is on that scale is exactly the number it needs to be in this process. 10 years ago I would panic at the sight of a diner booth, trying to calculate how I could get an end seat so no one would notice I didn't fit in there. Two weeks ago I was running miles and lifting big weights and squatting 500 like it's nothing. And today I'm not. Today my body is telling me to chill the frig out and I've decided to listen. I won't get set back or discouraged, i'll pick up right where I left off. And i'll tell you all about it when I get there.
In what ways can you give yourself the chill pill it deserves this season? How can you turn off the judgey and turn up the respect on yourself? Is your attitude serving you (and those in your life) in the best way possible? See to it that you savor every minute of this crazy holiday, guys. Eat some cookies, drink some nog, and do your best to listen to and love yourself above everything. The muffin tops, grandma butts and back rolls, too.
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