I’ve become an expert on modeling how (not) to properly deal with feeling like a frump. Why?
Because I often feel like a cliche.
It is post- Christmas holidays, post-New Year’s resolutions, and I feel fat and frumpy. I am acutely aware that I have issues with certain foods that make me feel like a human blowfish, but (insert whine here), “it was Chriiistmaaas!”
I know better. In fact, I know a lot and should be properly ashamed of myself. Should being the operative word. But I’m not; at least not enough to make me change anything too drastically no matter how tight these jeans are feeling around the waist as I sit here typing.
Feeling like a frump happens to be just that: a feeling. And I am aware that I have some control over it by how I think about myself. Go figure.
Take the picture at the top of this post. That beautiful woman beside me is my brother’s wife, Robyn, – my sister-from-another-mister. She is one of my all-time favorite people in the world, and has walked with me through some of my worst moments over the past 20 years, and I love her fiercely.
Do you sense a “but” coming on? Well… the thing is, I feel like a ginormous hippo next to her. She is all willowy-tall-beautiousness that makes me want to don a muumuu and wear curlers in my hair all the live-long-day. A love-hate inner struggle, if you will. I love to be with her, yet hate to be seen next to her.
Don’t believe for a second that I’m leading up to a grand moment where I have mastered this war within; not yet, anyway. But you know what I have realized?
Time is too precious to hide-out from life.
The moments with my kids, the moments with people I love like Robyn & Jaret, are much too valuable to squander by feeling self-conscious about what I feel I am not. Instead, I need to focus on who they are, and how well I can occupy my time with them.
Of course, there’s always the simple things I can do in the meantime to put my best foot forward. You know: not wearing muumuus and curlers and such.
There is nothing wrong with making an effort to better ourselves with healthy living, but I have taken it to almost certifiable levels for at least 10 years; desperately trying to shed weight in an attempt to be acceptable to others. Such a waste of time. Particularly because I was constantly trying every fad diet that came down the pike, not realizing that I had food allergies and sensitivities…
I am worth loving no matter what my size.
Or my age.
Or how loud my laugh is. (what?!)
I am a regular Joe-blow-40-something-momma-of-4 who is ONE-Of-a-KIND.
I hope you’re ok with you, too.