I’m majoring in Trophy Wife, with a minor in Milf
Ok… so… yes… I know. I had a baby almost 7 years ago… but I am still way too self conscious to get into a bikini. I have stretch marks in unsightly places, and given my hormonal raging the last year or so, I now resemble a close relative of the Michelin Man. So I feel it is incredibly unfair and selfish of me to subject others to the disgusting site of my flabby bod jammed into a string bikini. YUCK!
Granted there have been times in the last 7 years when I’ve looked fantastic, but mostly, that was mid-winter when there was no one around but Jeffsta to witness it. And let’s be honest, he is SUPPOSED to say I’m a hot piece of ass. It’s part of the requirements of being an amazing, loving and supportive husband. Another requirement, is to tell your wife when she’s better than what she has become. Which he so eloquently did at dinner the other night.
Jeffsta was going away for a few days, so he took Tyler and I out for dinner. When I went to the loo halfway through the evening, as I was washing my hands in the mirror, I realised I had grease spots down the bottom half of my top. I was shocked and disgusted til I looked up in the mirror, and realised “Meh, as a fat girl, those stains look like they should be there. It would be wrong and out of place if they weren’t!”. I rinsed them out the best I could and when I got back to the table with a sopping wet top, and Jeff’s quizzical look, I calmly explained “It’s ok, I’m fat now, this is how I look”. To which he replied “Oh no, have you gotten used to being fat?!”
At first, I was hurt. I mean, I am allowed to call myself whatever I like. But my husband is supposed to always love me, and think I’m beautiful no matter what! It was in that moment that I realised, I have a responsibility to myself AND my husband to look and feel good about myself. It doesn’t matter if I’m larger than I have been EVER, as long as I still take pride in my appearance and make an effort, that is all I need to do. But as soon as I get comfortable living and looking this way, then not only have I let myself down, but him to. That was when I decided that it doesn’t matter whether my weight gain is hormone related, I need to start exercising again. Because even if I stay this weight, if I am fit and healthy, then I will feel good about myself because I am at least trying, and THAT will make all the difference. After a life lived in the pursuit of being skinny, I have, after all my health issues this year, decided that I do not want to be thin. I want to be healthy, and fit, because:
and let’s be honest, who wants to spend the rest of their lives with someone who doesn’t give a sh*t?! The perfect man/woman/partner is one who will compliment you when they need to to lift your spirits, and will tell you to get a grip and get over yourself before it’s too late. Just like that saying, “How can anyone love you if you don’t love yourself?”, – how can you expect anyone to be proud to have you if you take no pride in yourself?
So to all those women who grew up admiring Ally McBeal, who taught you that you should wait for the man who thinks you’re perfect no matter what you look/act like, and that if things get tough, just adjust your hemlines – GROW UP! Everything that little anno moron said was total rubbish. She had NO idea. Step up, face your faults ( we all have them so please don’t fool yourself into thinking that you’re perfect and everyone else is somehow wrong or stupid ), and do something about it. Crying and whinging into your drink every night at a bar is not going to get you anywhere, except maybe onto the list of people who aren’t invited to parties anymore list because they’re too annoying and draining to tolerate.
So, come along on this journey of self-acceptance and love with me. I ran my first 4km last night since January, and guess what, I didn’t die! It felt great, even though my time was so shocking I will never publish it. Nontheless, I am doing something about it, and I will struggle through, can you say that you are willing to do the same?