I'm no different

I don’t think I am different from most American females.   We judge ourselves on our body, our perception of our body.   I have put on 20-30 pounds in the time Joe has been diagnosed.    Life became crazy.    I started to work 60-70 hours a week instead of 18.   I stopped walking three or more miles every morning.    My body changed and I am not happy with it. 

This brings me to many different places in my head.   First, aren’t we our own worst enemy?   Years ago I was in a youth group meeting.   I was speaking to our committee that for Valentine’s Day I thought our theme should be “Loving Ourselves”.   A male teen in the committee responded “ Hey, if a girl is fat, she’s just fat”.   Isn’t this just what all females run into?    We are supposed to look a certain time way, our physical appearance to be a certain way to be accepted.  

I am guilty of judging myself and judging harshly.   I want to lose those extra pounds.   I loved when we belonged to the pool and I could swim laps.   I loved the silence of it when all I really heard was my own breathing  I often lost count of my laps because I was deep in my own head.   

I loved the walks Joe and I took everyday.   We were stopped by a man in his 80s once who asked why, day after day, we walked by and had so much to talk about.  He didn’t feel after a certain number of years of marriage there could be anything left to say.  But everyday we had things to share with each other.   I would tell him about what had happened with the kids the day before.   He would share pharmacy news.   I would share pharmacy news.    We would plan vacations or house repairs or how to talk to one of ours about...     We were a team.   A team in motion and a team just on the same page.  

Today, I slept in.   I know in this heat and humidity, I will struggle to walk, regardless of how early.   Today, I started a new thought process.   Today I started to realize thatwhile yes, I have put on weight, I am more than a weight, than a size.   

For three years I have kept my family afloat.   For three years I have managed the loss of two jobs and a devastating diagnosis.    I have seen my oldest head of to Ireland for Vet School.   I have seen both my girls get married.   I have fought my son to do more, to reach farther.    I have made sure my husband is safe and feels secure.   When he wakes in the middle of the night calling my name, I can grab his hand and talk him back to sleep.   

None of this matters in the fact that I have put on some weight since this all began.   My weight, body style etc, is not what is going to keep my family on track.   It is all something in my head that I need to find a way to make peace with.   

It’s kinda strange in a way.   The ones I know who love me no matter what, I don’t care about what my body looks like.   But it comes to those I feel judge me.   It is their opinion I think of.   And to be honest, their opinion doesn’t matter at all.