Usually I am right on board with the rest of the delusional idiots who vow to work out more and eat better in the new year. I am normally right there with the rest of “them”, hogging treadmills and grunting while I use the free weights. I endure the nasty glares from the regular gym junkies for the whole two weeks that I stick to my new years resolutions. This year, I am not going to vow those things. I am going to vow to continue to live my life just the way it is - with a healthy balance of family, friends, fitness and happiness. And in doing so, this is the only “resolution” I am making this year:
I am resolving to allow myself to be more than a number, whether it be the number on the scale, on the tag of my jeans or the label inside my shirt because, I deserve to stop beating the hell out of my ego and self esteem. For three years I have been my harshest critic. I have never stood back and just allowed myself to really see how far I have come. I have been lost in my own head, and most of the time, my head has been trapped up my own ass.
Whether I am an 8 or a 10 or a 12, I am still better than I was when I was stuffing my Ben and Jerry’s eating ass into a size 28. I have to stop with the self deprecating jokes about my “fat ass”. I have to stop hating the person I see in the mirror. I have to learn to be more gracious when I receive compliments. I have to love myself more and stop believing that I am in competition with everyone else. When I look in the mirror and feel even the slightest bit of pride in what I have accomplished, I have to stop thinking that I don’t deserve to feel that way.
I want to try to see myself the way others see me. I want to borrow the eyes of the people who love me most, and see myself the way they see me. It doesn’t mean I don’t still want to be a flab free size 6, but I need to work with what I got, ya know?
I need to do these things for several reasons:
• I want to give my children a healthy perspective on their bodies. My son battles with his weight on and off, and I feel like sometimes my insecurities and my issues have affected his self image. My daughter is naturally thin and strong, but struggles with the fear of getting fat when she gets older. I want them to work hard, and enjoy their childhood in a healthy, nondestructive way. I want them to love their bodies in a way that I have never been able to.
• I will never have a healthy relationship if I don’t stop being a whining, sniveling control freak who doesn’t want to get undressed with the lights on, or who spends every second wondering if I look “fat”. If he is with me, says he loves me, and brags about me to his friends then I need to believe in what he says. If he tells me I’m hot, I don’t have to believe it, but I have to believe that he believes it.
• I don’t want to be burned at the stake like Joan of Ark by my family and loved ones for going on for one more second about my flabby skin, my gut, my ass or my deflated arms. No one cares. Except me. And I shouldn’t.
• And mainly, because I need to preserve my sanity. I have two teenage children who like to test my patience and their boundaries, and I need to have my wits sharp and undeterred. Rather than worrying about how to remove the excess skin with a rusty scalpel and some Tylenol, I need to have laser focus on things like teenage boys who want to touch my teenage daughter, or my teenage son who has already *gasp* kissed a girl. Probably with tongue. And how to prevent my babies from making babies, smoking pot, snorting Smarties (yes, this is a real thing), or sneaking out late at night. And while I am keenly aware that most of these things will eventually happen anyway, I at least want to be fast enough and alert enough to chase after them once I have caught them doing it. And while “happy pills” do indeed make you less psychotic, I would rather have a little rage that will instill some fear into their tiny teenage hearts.
So in short, in 2013 I will make a steadfast attempt to be less of an asshole. I can’t make any guarantees, but I will try. Now, I am going to get my fat ass off of this computer and get to the gym! Hey, it’s still 2012.