If you’re physically fit and eat well and are sick of being told you are too high on the BMI chart, raise your hand.
If you’ve ever been solid muscle with very little fat and still considered “overweight” on the BMI chart, raise your hand.
If you are a woman who wears a size 12 or higher but works out and eats well, raise your hand.
If you are happy and you know it, clap your hands.
I have been told I’m overweight for as long as I can remember. As a teen girl whose mother struggled with Anorexia and a father who ate vegetable soup every night for dinner and egg whites for breakfast between running miles upon miles to maintain his lean physique, you’ve got a girl with a serious body complex.
Unfortunately, I’m not the only girl in all of history with this issue.
I am athletic and strong and build muscle like a man – very quickly, very solidly. My legs are like tree trunks. They are thick and strong and have never been “long and lean”.
In high school, I was an athletic dancer and tipped the scales at 145 – 150 depending on the day. Obese, right? According to the BMI chart I was creepin’ on obesity.
I now weigh 215lbs (down from 260), and am in the best shape I’ve been in 5 or so years. I’m definitely overweight. Possibly even obese. But I’m in shape. My recent blood work was perfect, I’m losing weight, and I work out 4 to 5 days every week. My arms are becoming more defined and my waistline is slowly coming back, though my enormous butt, hips, and thighs have yet to leave the situation.
They never will.
Because that’s just how I’m made. Like a ladle.
OK, maybe a little more like an hourglass right now, but that’s just because of the enormous post-nursing boobies. They’re not normally this big.
In any event, I have curves. I always have and I always will, no matter how well I eat and how much I exercise.
Why is that such a bad thing?
I’m tired of society’s idea of perfection where the female body is concerned. Just like gender, race, religion; why can’t we just agree that it’s all beautiful and different – yet the same?
We strive to obtain this body image that isn’t obtainable to some people. We exhaust our emotions on wanting to be something we’re just not, and never will be. We spend thousands of dollars on plastic surgery to enhance this or reduce that. For what?
It’s not vanity, people. It’s the pursuit of happiness.
And it is sheer madness.
It took me gaining a CRAPton of weight to realize how beautiful I am. It took my husband still being incredibly attracted to me at 260lbs to realize that I was worth his love and attention, and that my body is beautiful just the way it was made. Now, at 215 lbs, I am more comfortable in a bathing suit than I have ever been. I may not look like society’s idea of perfection in a swim suit and that’s OK. I have to be content knowing where I am on my journey and happy with every square inch of my luscious frame.
That realization has made it so much easier to stick to Paleo as a lifestyle rather than a diet.
I am still not the size I want to be but I’m working on it. I eat healthy food and I exercise.
I. Am. Healthy.
I am losing weight the healthy, right, and natural way.
This time, when I pull on a size 12, I will be PROUD that I have a tiny waist and an ample bottom. I won’t stress the fact that my friends are size 2 at 5’10” tall. Or that some other friends are 5’3″ and wear a size 4. I am 5’6″. I will wear a 12 in jeans and a 6 in dresses.
And I will be content with that.
Because that’s how I’ve been made. It is how I am most beautiful, and I will now be content.
And most importantly, I won’t care what the media says, or what the skinny girl at the gym thinks, or what the gorgeously fit family at Disney thinks. They do not determine my happiness, I do.
And I am happy with my big ole booty, my elephant seal knees, and my little waist because: