Weight. It’s Just a Number… Currently, An Uncomfortable One

I am always very apprehensive talking about my weight and body image. Uncomfortable because I am and have always been considered tall, thin, and lanky. Therefore, any displeasure or discomfort I may express with my body usually results in the opposite party rolling his/her eyes, exclaiming my ridiculousness, or expressing disdain for what is often seen in our society as an ideal body type. I do not like to discuss my body because I do not like to bring attention to my body. Bringing attention to my body brings attention to my flaws, flaws that, to me, are glaring. That being said, I recognize that I am a victim of today’s media that values flat abs, tight asses, and cellulite free thighs. Being an intelligent, educated individual, I expect myself not to fall victim to these skewed values, and yet, I do, everyday. Therefore, discussions surrounding my imperfect body also contain an element of shame. Knowledge should equal power, and yet, I feel mentally incapable of accepting my imperfections despite my understanding of the media.

            I am today, the heaviest I have ever been. A brutal winter, a rainy spring, and a summer consumed with packing have raised my stress level (and, therefore, my appetite) and almost entirely eliminated my ability to workout. I have watched my stomach become increasingly flabby, my thighs become increasingly large, and my waist become increasingly less defined. My waistbands have become tighter affording less wiggle room, and my tank tops have a distinctive belly bulge. The number on my scale has slowly but surely crept up to an uncomfortable high.

            I generally avoid talking about numbers when referring to weight. I have always been a believer that numbers don’t matter, but health does. I avoid conversations about weight around my girls, but rather, continually stress eating healthy, exercising, and being strong. If I were still running half marathons, lifting regularly, and eating healthy the current number on my scale would be irrelevant. However, it is, today, a glaring reminder that I am not taking the necessary steps to be strong and healthy. It is a glaring reminder that external and internal forces have made me apathetic and lazy.

            Within the next week, my family will arrive at our new home in a new city. I pray that the change of scenery, the change in climate, and the shift from a rural to an urban life will re-energize me both mentally and physically. I look forward to once again being within walking distance of a grocery store, a coffee shop, and a Target! I am anxious to lace up my running shoes, plug in my iPod, and hit the streets running. I expect the numbers on my scale to slowly recede, my waistbands to gradually loosen, and to become more comfortable with this imperfect body that is mine alone.