Let's talk about our bods.

I don't know about you, but I am tired of hating mine.

Now this may be a super girly and maybe kind of boring blog post, but I feel like it is a topic that is talked about so much and yet we live in a society where girls despise the body they are walking around in.

I have always struggled with body image. I'm pretty private about it, so my fingers surprised even me when I typed the first sentence of this post. I'm not writing this for people to comment on it with things like "Ohhhh Molly..you are so skinny!" or other responses that people generally feed people who are fishing for compliments.

I am not fishing for anything. You don't even need to finish reading this. I just feel like this is something I need to get out there. So here goes.

I will always remember the first time I felt the sharp pain of hatred towards my body. When we were little we had a big box of dress ups that we kept in our basement and my sisters and I would spend hours upon hours changing identities with the help of dusty hats and sparkling costume jewelry. Not only were we well supplied with accessories, but we had a vast array of old fashioned dresses that we absolutely adored.

I can still see the dress.

I can't remember exactly how old we were, but we were approaching the age where playing dress ups wasn't 'cool' anymore. Time was running out! We had to take advantage of all of our remaining time of our youthful freedom.

I lifted the dress out of the box. It was a long, pink dress with a giant bow adorning the back and fabric that whispered whenever you moved. My favorite. I eagerly climbed into the dress, my imagination already churning as I imagined myself as a glamorous movie star or perhaps a princess from a far away land. I reached back to zip the zipper.....

I managed to get it halfway. My heart stopped.

I slowly unzipped the pinching zipper as I felt my eyes fill with tears. It was hard to believe that only a few seconds ago I didn't have a care in the world. Now my mind was filled with one word.

Fat.

Now this unfortunate incident occurred years and years ago, but it impacted me enough for me to carry it around this long. Us girls don't just forget that kind of stuff.

So why are we so traumatized by this? Why do we keep the number on the scale such a well kept secret? Why does jean shopping send us into a deep state of depression?
Well, I'll tell you why.
We are programmed that way.

And I'm sick of it.

Who says the size of your jeans is directly related to how happy you are?
Since when did starving yourself become sexy?
Who determined this?

I have recently accepted the fact that I am never going to be 'skinny'. I will probably never be able to pull off skinny jeans and I will never squeeze into an 'xsmall'...well, anything.
I'm alright with this.

You see, I have come to the conclusion that the kind of people I want to surround myself with aren't going to be the type that care. The kind of guy I want to attract isn't going base his pursuit of me off of my BMI just like I am not going to determine my feelings by how 'ripped' he is or his capability of being a Hollister model. Come on now.

I would be lying if I said am completely past my self confidence troubles. I have so far to go. But I am proud of how far I have gotten and I feel so much more....content with myself. In fact, as I have embarked on this self accepting journey, I have not only grown stronger mentally but physically as well.

I realized that prior attempts to lose weight have been all about trying to impress people. Look good in my prom dress. Find a boyfriend.  Blahhh, blahh, blah. This time is different though. I have been working out because it makes me feel good.
Because my goal isn't 'skinny' anymore.
It's 'healthy'.

Every pound I lose is met with celebration, but also with a dose of reality. I have to remind myself to be constantly checking myself and my motives to losing the weight. I refuse to fall into the same state of mind I have so often been in before. The same that I have watched others be consumed by. That's no way to live.

So girls. If nothing else of this long and ranting post has stuck with you, please note this. Before you decide to lose weight, you need to accept yourself first. If you feel like you can't accept who you are if you hate what you see in the mirror, then you may be confused by who your 'self' is. She is living on the inside, ladies! You can bounce from a size 16 to a size 2 and you are still going to be the same person. Weight loss isn't going to fix that.

Alright, well this has gotten to be a lot longer than I anticipated. It's just been something that I have been thinking about a lot lately, and I feel like its a topic that can't be emphasized enough.

Have a glorious day :)

PS. I am going to the pool today. I am wearing a bikini. I only feel slightly terrified at this thought. :) This is progress people!!

I work at a fast food restaurant that closes at 10 o' clock.

10 o' clock sharp.

I really don't like it if people even come in after 9:30, so this evening when I heard the shrill sound of the door go off at 9:45 I was less than amused. I grumpily made my way to the counter and was preparing my best glare for the unsuspecting victim at the counter.

The first thing that came to my mind when I saw the character standing there was..."Luigi".

You know that little guy in Mario games? He wears a bright green shirt and overalls. Real adorable.

Anyway, the man standing there looked disturbingly like this video game personality. He exhibited a worn green t shirt with a picture of the Virgin Mary on the front, a red baseball cap, and a giant pair overalls that probably could have fit two of him in them.

I'm not kidding.

The kind of overalls that you see old farmers wear. However, they were spotlessly clean and he was wearing them with pride. As I got to the counter, he grinned at me.

Now, its hard for me to describe his face to you. It was a kind face. He had giant dark brown eyes that seemed to be smiling to match his grin. He had dark brown hair. A neatly trimmed beard. Straight teeth.

From the start, he baffled me. I tried to guess how old he was...and I still couldn't tell you. He was solidly built with broad shoulders and strong arms that gave him a youthful look. However, as he examined our menu his eyes crinkled up which aged him incredibly. I knew he wasn't terribly old, but he could have been thirty five or twenty one for all I knew.

I have a staring problem.

Finally he turned to me and exclaimed "I've never been here before! Can you help me?"

Being the outstanding employee that I am, I began rambling off some of the popular choices on our menu and he listened politely and made little comments about each suggestion. I began to like him more and more.

He had me laughing openly by the time he was done ordering. Every sentence that came out of his mouth was quirky and almost boyish. Each remark came without a second to prepare.

He had a low, rumbling laugh.

When I handed him his food, he tipped his hat at me and thanked me.

Then he was gone. Went out the back door, which means he must have walked there. I was sad to see him leave but I had a lot of work to do. As I began straightening up I noticed he had left $4.35 in change sitting on the counter. In fact, it hadn't even moved from where I had set it down.

This isn't the first time people have left change on the counter. It happens a lot, but this was different. My new friend just seemed....free. Not the type to be concerned about leaving five bucks on the counter. He certainly didn't look wealthy, but boy oh boy..was he rich in every other way. He was happy. Blissfully so. Giant overalls and all.

People walk into our lives, sometimes only for a brief amount of time, and fascinate us. I'm not saying I fell madly in love with this stranger or anything, that's not what I mean at all.

(Even though I am a little bit convinced that we might be soulmates.)

Sometimes only a couple of minutes of exposure to these types of people has the power to cure us. He was a breath of fresh air. A bizarre breath of fresh air with an atrocious taste in style, but I think that is why I liked him so much. He didn't care what I thought. He was just going to be himself.

So here is my challenge:

Be that type of person. Have the power to walk into a fast food joint and leave the people there with a smile on their faces. Awe them with your complete and utter freedom.

Conquer them over by causing them to laugh even though they probably don't want to be there.

Hey, they might even blog about you when they get home. :)

I am a wreck.
I don't say what I mean, and I don't always mean what I say.
I leap before I give myself time to even peer over the edge, let alone look.
I am silent when I should speak up and I fill the peaceful kind of silence with ramblings.

Be patient with me.

I am ungraceful.
I listen to strange music.
I change my mind at the last minute.
I step on the toes of those trying to lead me.

Dance with me.

I am loquacious.
I ask too many questions.
I struggle in my responses.
I don't always say the right things.

Talk to me.

I am a sap.
I get attached quickly.
I have unrealistic views on love.
I am a firm believer in fairytale endings.

Love me.

She was a mystery to the world.

A closed book. A well kept secret between tightly sealed lips. Her face held eyes that reflected every emotion that didn't have a name.

You know the kind I mean.

The way it feels when something makes you so completely and utterly happy that you feel a sense of dread fill your stomach. Is it because you're afraid you'll lose it? Or maybe you are feeling sorry for yourself because you don't get to experience this feeling as often as you would like.

So tears fill your eyes.

Or maybe the feeling that takes over when you love someone so much, so purely, that it hurts your eyes to look at them. It doesn't make sense--this..anger that you begin to feel towards them. Maybe we are angry because we know that all they have to do is leave and that will be the ruin of us. Or maybe we start to feel hatred towards the ones we love the most dearly because we know we had no choice in the matter. Love was shoved upon us like a weight we aren't prepared to bear.

We clench our hands into fists.

She held these emotions in her eyes. Uncomfortable, confusing feelings that we don't like to think about. So what do we do?

We dodge her gaze. We take an alternate path to our destination just to avoid those crystal blue eyes that make us squirm. Those eyes that reflect back what we need to examine more closely, but are scared to.

So she remains alone. Sits by herself at her lunch table. Never gets asked out on a date. Stays home on Prom night.

We are scared of what we don't understand, so we separate ourselves from those who confuse us. Put them in a box and swear we will get to them once we take care of what really matters. Safe, comfortable things that don't push us too hard. We fit in. We frown at those who stick out.

So she remains. Alone.

You and me
are like night and day.
Addition and subtraction.
Hot and cold.
Every cliche, polar opposite.

Then why is it,
that we are drawn to each other
like the positive and negative
sides of a magnet?
We are the needle
to each other's thread.
The echo that resounds
back to a shout.

Why is it that your
hand fits perfectly in mine?

We don't make sense.
We never will.

So let's stop trying understand.

Nature around us is constantly in motion. Whether it is the gradual fade of soft summer leaves to crunchy fall ones, or a majestic sunset as day gives night a turn. Just look around you. Every second that passes brings more and more change.

Change isn't always a good thing.

Ask the troubled wife who's beloved and once devoted husband starts coming home later and later every night with new smells on him and a coldness in his eyes. Ask the white haired old man who sits alone in a retirement home with nothing but the feeling of abandonment to keep him company. Ask the family who's loved one went off to war and never came home. Ask them. They'll tell you.

Yes, sometimes change will leave us crumpled on the floor. It will tear us apart and leave us asking what we possibly have left. We are...well, changed.

So what do we do when this monster bears its fangs and abducts all that we hold dear? Do we retaliate with denial?
Anger?
Self pity?
Yes.

Often times we do. Healing hurts.

However, we hold the power in our hands to give this beast a taste of its own medicine. In our weary, shaking hands lies the answer.

We cry when it hurts and then we pick ourselves up and move with purpose. We throw ourselves obsessively into becoming a better something. Whether it is a better wife, a better parent, a better friend. We learn from what change has taken from us...but we continue to just keep giving. Not to bribe change to come back to our side, but to show change that it has not won. In fact, it has only brought out it's brother.

We change for the better.

Beauty. Choose to see it everywhere you look. Breathe it in. Then release it as you breathe out. What a wonder that would be. If we all stopped looking for the bad in ourselves and those around us. If we all woke up every morning with the steady determination of a child...one goal in mind. Today I will experience beauty. We would meditate on this as we sleepily arose and prepared for what the day would bring. I think the world would have hushed mornings.

Hush, hush, hush.

We would open our front doors to face the sun with star studded eyes.

Let's stop this game of pleasing each other. When did beauty become something that must be earned? Who says we aren't all entitled to it? Perhaps we did all posses it once upon a time.

Jealousy. Hatred. Self loathing. Lies of society.

These are the culprits. Slowly turning our eyes downwards as we avoid the reflection in the mirror. Rotting our opinions of not only ourselves but of everyone we come in contact with. The beauty we once carried within us begins its disappearing act.