While I was working out tonight, I had a nice chat with myself about my body-image (Oh, like you’ve never talked to yourself. Don’t judge me). I have been frustrated lately. Back in the beginning of March, I started pulling myself back together. I spent the first few months after the first miscarriage mostly hanging out on the sofa and in pajama pants. After talking to someone who has experience in grief counseling and my children having an intervention entitled, “Mommy cannot wear pajama pants out in public, even though the grocery store is almost across the street from us,” I decided it was time to get back on the health bandwagon. (Okay, so my kids didn’t really officially call it that, but they did kinda hold an intervention and made me promise that I would stop wearing my pajama pants in public. I have stuck to it for the most part, with the exception of my plaid ones because I seriously think I can get away with it.)
The first thing I did was create an account on My Fitness Pal. My Fitness Pal allows you to log your food and exercise and helps you keep track of your goals. I took my measurements and started a fitness regime as well. I started measuring my portions. I logged everything. I fell in love with exercising again, and it helped me heal mentally as well. However, I became a bit discouraged because I wasn’t losing weight. I figured that maybe it was because I was building muscle again. However, it has been over five months. I log everything. I exercise 1-2 hours a day. I have only lost about 11 pounds. I had my thyroid tested earlier in the summer, so I already know that it is not that. Needless to say, I had a meltdown last weekend because of it.
After last weekend’s meltdown, I got back on the horse and kept going. However, it has still been bothering me. While I was exercising tonight, I rubbed the side of my leg at one point. I have some definition there that I never knew was possible. While I may not be as thin as I was in college, deep down I know I am healthier. That girl in college was thin because she lived on a steady diet of Diet Mountain Dew and cigarettes. That girl I see in the mirror might be bigger, but she lives on a diet of fresh fruits, veggies, and healthy foods. That girl in college may have exercised, but I am pretty sure I could kick my former self’s butt with my seriously strong legs. (No, seriously, I really think I might actually hurt someone if I was to kick him, so don’t meet me down a dark alley.)
I think I might have to come to terms that I may never look like that again, and that is okay. I don’t want my daughter to have the same hang ups I had. I want her to love herself at whatever size she may be (and yes, she has already shown some body issues because she is just a tiny girl and has trouble finding pants that will stay on her tiny waist). I would love it if I could lose the weight I want to lose, but I also want to love myself, just as I am, at any size that I am.
I know that I am doing the right things in regards to healthy eating and exercise as well as trying to find a balance between it all. I am honestly not sure why I am not losing more weight. I am going to continue doing what I am doing. I find myself getting physically ill after I eat things I shouldn’t, and exercise is good for my soul. At this point though, that is all I can do. If I stay the size I am for the rest of my life, I am just going to have to love the girl in the mirror as she is.
Do you ever struggle with body image? If so, I would love for you to share in the comments.