Julia Child said it best: Never apologize
Friday, April 21, 2017
I've been looking back through my previous blog entries this week, reading about my past struggles, past wins, past fights. None of these things are really in the past, though. Every day offers up some kind of struggle, win, and/or fight. Almost a year ago, I wrote a blog called An Apology to Myself and was flattered beyond belief when it got one of those "Featured Blog Posts" stickers on it. The blog is exactly what it says: an apology to myself for losing the person I once was.
Even though at my lowest weight I didn't have tight abs, I had cellulite on my thighs, and I had underarm jiggle, I was happy. Not just because of the number on the scale, but because I was FIT. It took me a long time to be able to do one hundred sit-ups at once. Or to be able to run a full mile without feeling like I was having a heart attack. I was the girl who went for daily long walks every morning. When I saw my neighbor, he'd say, "What mile you on?" "Seven!" I'd shout back gleefully.
SEVEN. SEVEN MILES. I used to do that. That used to be me.
I sit and wonder what happened to that girl, and I think that maybe I should write another apology all over again. But you know what? I already apologized to myself once. And I'm not apologizing again even if maybe I should.
When I woke up this morning, I felt different. I can't explain it. I got on the scale for the first time in months. I didn't recoil when I saw the number even though I'm at my heaviest EVER. I measured my arms, my thighs, hips, waist, bust. I was looking back through my previous measurements, and I saw that my hips were 41 inches. They are 52 now.
But I didn't freak out.
And maybe some people think I should. I don't know, maybe I should be gasping in horror, but I honestly don't want to have those feelings about myself. I don't want to be horrified by numbers and labels in my jeans.
I just want to look 52 straight in the eyes, and say, "I see you. You're okay. And while this is the last time I'm going to see you, I see you now, and I'm not afraid or ashamed of you."
This is it, 52.