This past week has been crazy (hence the lack of posts). I apologize.
With so much going on, it’s safe to say I wasn’t eating my best. And after much talk and consideration, I realized, it’s okay.
It’s okay for me to come home and want a beer while the hubs and I are watching the World Cup Games. It’s okay for us to add dessert to it, just because. It’s okay for me to have those french fries, just as it is okay for me to have my salad at work.
My whole childhood was spent hearing about how beautiful my sister looked and how one day I’d blossom. Or the classic, “Oh, she has such a beautiful face! She’ll grow out of her baby fat soon”. Did I?
Fast forward to today: I still have the same baby face (just ask anybody.. people don’t believe me when I tell them my age) and I am still chubby. I don’t think that’s going anywhere. I do plan meals ahead, I have really good smoothies for breakfast and I workout at least 3 times a week for at least an hour. I am happy with that. I eat my cake, I eat my cookie, and that pizza on game nights. I do popcorn with the hubs, but forgo the parmesan while he loves to coat his popcorn in it.
I was talking to my coworker a couple of weeks ago about this. I’ve seen a couple of people so obsessed with their looks, so obsessed about what they, and everyone around them eat, and they’re still unhappy. I’m not saying it’s the norm, but I’ve come to realize how you look doesn’t reflect how you feel.
If all you have to say about me is that I’m chubby, or could afford to lose 10 pounds, then I’m happy. I’d rather be the nicest, most friendly chubby person you’ve met instead of that crazy workout obsessed thin person. I’d rather go to someone’s house and not have to worry about what the menu will be, how many calories that pasta will have, and just enjoy myself and my friends.
It’s not to say I don’t tell myself every morning before I take a shower that I should work out more. That I should strive to be more. I’m my own hardest critic, my roughest enemy. But one day, if I really want to, I can. And I will. It’s not my top priority, but if it comes to be, I will get rid of the fat.
While I haven’t, it’s okay. Half of the struggles I have happen in my head. Most people don’t care that you have a little extra around your stomach. They care about how you make them feel. About your conversations, about connecting with you. And that, I now know, is much more important to fit in – or it should be.