May
18
A semi-recent thing I do not enjoy is how my midsection has taken on an entirely new shape that involves, like, complex topography.
This doesn’t really feel like a “curvy” situation. In fact, when I hear the word curvy I instantly think of a certain type of body and that type is youthful, because up until a point you’ve got collagen and skin elasticity on your side and those are big juicy curves, girl! But as the ravages of time take their bodily toll, DANGEROUS CURVES AHEAD kind of changes to PARTIALLY-DEFLATED SKIN BALLOON WITH WEIRD NEW BULGES, POPULATION: YOU.
I am trying very hard to work on acceptance these days. I see a counselor, I listen to earnest soul-bolstering podcasts, I sit on a yoga mat every damn day and think about how to love this body I’m in because honestly what are the alternatives? Living in bitter hatred of my own self, day after day after day after day until I am DEAD?
I mean when you put it that way it seems completely insane to spend even one more second of my remaining life bemoaning the way my belly, somehow shaped like the capital letter B now, folds the lower part of the B over its old C-section scars like a tragic little flesh-apron. Or how my back looks both strong (yoga!) — and very much like a melted candle, with lumpy rolls that cascade down my sides. Or how my upper legs are now textured and jiggly enough that leggings really don’t cut it unless they’re thicker and form-fitting which of course makes them too uncomfortable to wear. Or how my breasts are just an entire fucking heavy-ass disaster that require monstrous bras in sizes and prices that are brand new to me.
It’s crazy, right? Crazy to spend so much energy, STILL, after all these years, after all the developments in the last who-even-knows, after all we’ve all been through. It feels crazy to care at all, never mind caring so much it sometimes feels like that’s all I can think about.
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THIS. You aren’t alone! Thanks for putting it out there. <3
Saaaaaaame. I’ve been obsessively looking at before and afters of laser lipo. I never thought I’d be this person, but it’s like on top of everything else going on in the world, I can imagine I can do something about my body at least. I thought I had longer until things fell apart so visibly, not in my mid 40s already.
GIRL I FEEL YOU.
Even if you know better, it’s tough to always give yourself the grace to love a perfectly good body that does all the wonderful things every day. I have a cycling monologue about my own – from gratitude to amusement (heh. new jiggle) to annoyance (ugh. don’t love how that roll looks). It feels stupid to even indulge in the negative thoughts, but they still come.
Relaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaatable
I have days when I’m like “Not bad for an older lady!”—and days where I am more like “WHAT FRESH HELL IS THIS”/”WHAT IS THIS GODFORSAKEN NONSENSE”
A colleague recently referred to “busty women like you and me” and honestly? It the first time I’ve ever been referred to as busty in my life. I had to ruefully correct her “I’ve never been busty, it’s just that what used to sit high and close now sags into a ramp so it points out from my body and is suddenly noticeable.”
I turned 40 in april and its like everything fell apart over night. I’ve always been small framed and so I didn’t have to work THAT hard to keep things in order but now, oof! The backs of my thighs, the side muffin top, even my face (damn the jowls!), almost look unrecognizable to me sometimes. I know its a losing battle that is only going to get worse. I just try to be grateful that everything is still pretty much in working order. I suppose wanting anything more than that is just being greedy.
I I gave birth two years ago, turned 40 two months after that, and then there was a pandemic… and a burn-out… and now half of the time I think “you’re 42 now, this is never going to get better, just accept it” and the other half of the time I think “hey, these are just leftovers from pregnancy/pandemic/burn-out eating and lack of exercise, get moving and everything will be just FINE!”. Don’t know which one to believe…
I know. Me too. Sliding into 50 hit me hard. Somehow we all have to figure out how to hold each other up.
Yep.