This is a concept of which I must frequently remind myself. Why? Because I’m not skinny, and I dwell in a culture that tends towards the view that nothing tastes better than skinny feels. As @itsjenlawrence tweeted yesterday:
Really? “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels?” Um…may I introduce you to pizza?
Well said. This is after concluding just yesterday that I would only continue to wear a bikini in order to shame myself into losing 15 pounds. But then I saw a mom at my kid’s football game who was:
a. in her 40’s
b. curvy as all get-out; and
c. just simply gorgeous and sexy.
And then this morning, I saw an original and photoshopped photo of the very same Jennifer Lawrence.
She has my body type (ok, she has my body twenty years ago), and she looks curvy and gorgeous in the unretouched photo. I thought; wow, if I look anything like that, what am I worried about? Frankly, I think the second photo looks like she has an invisible medicine ball squishing her stomach.
When I was in Hawaii three months ago, the sexiest woman I saw could be considered slightly overweight. She was Hawaiian, or perhaps Latina, with beautiful caramel skin, long dark hair, and stylish sunglasses. She was walking on the beach wearing a white, not overly revealing, strapless two piece. And the way she walked, slowly, casually, comfortable in her skin, just shouted SEXY. It is easy to feel sexy in Hawaii, with the humid breeze continuously caressing your skin, and where the bikini is de rigueur from six to sixty (can anyone say paradise?)
So why did I feel like I was a walking, talking, NutriSystem advertisement yesterday? Probably because I have been virtually ignoring my workout plan for the last month, and everything feels soft and jiggly. Because I know that nothing has really changed, physically.
And maybe that is the answer, at least for me. Get back to the damn gym. I was in my thirties before I realized I was an athlete, because I had always compared myself to swimsuit models, not athletes, who looked like, and could actually do things, like me. When I looked around at the healthy, strong, beautiful, women around me, I realized with some genuine pride, I’m one of them. But it was the being something, rather than the resembling something, that made me feel pride in who I was and what I had accomplished. And that is one of the ingredients of sexy.
But nevertheless, I continue to forget this lesson, and then, blissfully, remember. So I’m going to get my ass to the gym before it hits the floor.