I feel like I have it, but not the way people typically have body dysmorphia. When I see myself in the mirror or look down at my wrists, my calves, my thighs on the couch, I feel like I don’t look that bad. Then I see a full-length glimpse through a mirror or photograph and I’m suddenly shocked at just how fat I look. It’s like I literally don’t recognize this obese woman staring at me.
I used to play this horrible game with my husband out in public. I would spy a woman that I thought was reasonably bigger than myself, and then slyly ask him who was bigger. At dinner, at the waterpark, etc. I stopped asking around the fifth time he had a difficult time answering, while I looked at a woman that I thought was easily wearing a size 26 swimsuit. (And yes, I realize both what a horrible thing I was doing to these other women just going about their daily business, as well as the terrible position I put my husband in.)
I don’t know why I’m so caught up in the way I look. I guess as a society we all are, and I will say I admire the women that wear their “fat-kinis” (God, how I despise that term) proudly, because I even sometimes used to catch myself thinking, “hmmm…not sure she should be wearing that”. But damn if she shouldn’t! Just because I’m uncomfortable with the cellulite on my thighs and prefer to wear swimsuits with skirts on them doesn’t mean other women should feel like they have to cover up. More times than not now, when I see women in bikinis on the beach or at the pool, especially overweight women or women my age, I am only thinking about how they ROCK.
In any case, I’m in a funk this week. All my success of last week flew out the window with the stresses of school, work, marriage, and parenting this week. I’m trying to fight it, and to tell myself I’m not a lost cause, but it’s hard. I’ve always been one to eat my feelings, and this week is no different. My youngest son likes to cry and whine constantly while I’m trying to chop fruits and veggies for the next day’s lunches, or cook breakfast, so this week I’ve been off my prep and meal plan game. Dinner at home has been successful, but breakfast has NOT, and lunch has been hit or miss.
Tonight I have a date with my older son. I’m going to gorge on movie popcorn, watch Wonder Woman, and leave all of this *crap* behind, and start fresh again tomorrow. The weekends are never perfect, but at least I will get some exercise in through swimming and yard work, so there’s hope yet. I’m going to try not to let it defeat me.