Life is all about it, in many ways. The way we look, the way we speak, our personal brands (this is not officially a political statement, but I honestly don't care at this point if it comes across that way. I'm talking about other things today). This is not a Cancer Post™.
Today at my Weight Watchers meeting we discussed (body) image, and I realized a few things afresh.
I gained weight this week, and I was full of personal recrimination at first. But then I thought about it. I had a rough week, as you know if you've been paying attention (and lots of people have had harder ones, I know. But this is apparently Self Care Blog Week for me. Live with it). Laston in the ER last week, horrific things in the news all week, asthma/anxiety attacks therefrom on my part, still being functionally female.
You know, life, but rather more than usual. This is not to absolve myself of responsibility for my poor food choices or for ignoring WW tracking most days after lunch this week. I did those things and I own them. But they are mitigating circumstances, you know? No sense in beating myself up for them; then I just eat more out of - I dunno - guilt?
Time to get back up on that horse, back on the diet wagon, "tomorrow is another day," (apologies to Miss O'Hara) and etc.
Or to put it another way, in the words of my WW fellow traveler Joni, "Be positive about what your body can do."
Our meeting leader had us write down one thing we each like about our bodies (I have nice calves; they're strong and shapely) and what they can do or have done that is impressive.
I grew two human beings in mine, and if they can avoid these body image issues (so far so good, for the most part), then I have not only grown them in my body, I have helped to shape them into decent humans who honestly don't worry overmuch about what they - or other people - look like.
Because look at these two, on the first and last days of school. No body image problems here. And I like to think they extend that to others, as regards everything from body shape on down the line of "differences."
There's a reason my eight-year-old tells me I'm not fat, just "soft." Fat doesn't enter into her list of adjectives, and to her, my cuddliness is far more important.
I think that's a good image to have. My personal brand as the "cuddly mom."