12.5%

Body image is such a strange thing.  It is crazy how we view ourselves so differently than others do.  As many wise people have said many times before, we are our own worst critic.

I have always beat myself over my appearance.  Phrases like, "But you have such a pretty face," were not comforting.   So, recently, I came across a blog entry at V Watt's Thoughts that I found incredibly interesting. It was a little survey through the website of a British clothing store called Marisota.  It gives you a row of women with different figures and asks you to choose which one most closely resembles you.  You then put in your measurements, and it tells you whether or not your body choice was accurate.  Well, mine wasn't...

Here were my results:

I am still having a hard time believing this.  I didn't have to measure belly or arm fat, so I guess add some of that on to the model above.  I encourage you to try this out.  It was kinda fun, actually...and you may be surprised too. I have always thought I was bigger than I am.  No matter how much weight I lose, I go for the bigger size.  I like to go shopping with my friend, Sharon, for this reason, because she always tells me, "Are you serious? Try on the smaller size, Court!"  You know what? She is right 90% of the time.

This all kind of reminds me of the only time I was told I did not weigh enough...not sure why, but I am going to tell the story anyway...

I was pregnant with Darcy and I went in for one of my monthly doctor visits.  The doctor and I had a conversation that sounded like this...

Doctor V:  "Everything looks good with the baby, but there is one issue."

Me:  "What?"

Doctor V:  "You aren't gaining enough weight.  You need to eat more."

Me: "Come again?"

Doctor V: "You need to eat more food, Courtney.  You haven't gained enough for this stage in your pregnancy."

Me:  "Oh, no, I HEARD you.  I just wanted you to say it again.  I am pretty sure that is the ONLY time anyone has ever or will ever say that to me in my life.

Pretty sure I went home that night and insisted that Tim take me to Graeter's for a double scoop of black raspberry chip ice cream.  Ahh, memories...

But, I digress...

I've just gotta say...We need to try and stop being so hard on ourselves.  You are who you are. Changes will come if you do the work to make the changes a reality.  No one can force us to like ourselves, and honestly there are always going to be things about ourselves that we don't like, but we have to stop being so harsh.  I need to work on this too.  My body may be flabby right now, but it is strong.  I feel more like an athlete than I ever have in my life -- even if I don't look like one yet (as in to the unknowing eye, I don't look the part yet).  I am one, because I FEEL like one.  I am proud of that.

Take the quiz and let me know your results!

Chin up, sweetheart...

This weight I am carrying is not something that just crept up on me all of a sudden as an adult.  I have been overweight for a long time.  When I look at old pictures of myself, I really see it start coming on as early as 4 years old.  By the time I was in kindergarten, I was fat.

Me at 4 years old -- already a little "chubby."

I was awkward as a kid.  I was clumsy and shy.  I had buck teeth, which later led to braces.  I had an odd sort of mullet hair cut, which later led to the frizzy poof that was so trendy in the late 80s/early 90s.  I had all of this and was fat too.

               1st or 2nd grade.  Diggin the hair...                                   Fifth grade

                                   Junior High                                               Junior high.  

In elementary school, I never really experienced bullying.  I went to a small, parochial school, so I was with the same group of kids (give or take a few) from 1st until 8th grade.  We basically grew up with one another, so that kind of thing just didn't happen.  I was also the "nice one," which sort of shielded me from mean comments.  Because I had grown up with this group of classmates, they did not say hurtful things because they knew very well how nice I had been to all of them all those years.  

High school was not great.  I was insecure about my weight and wished that I could be thin.  The problem is that I did nothing to alter my lifestyle.  Hoping and wishing was as far as it went.  I went to two different high schools because my family moved at the beginning of my sophomore year.  Mean comments mostly happened at the first high school that I went to in Indianapolis.  We had a strict dress code, so we pretty much had to dress up every day.  I wasn't wearing the latest teenage trends, because I could not fit into them.  Mean girls made some horrible comments about my clothes.  I would often go home and cry in my room...and then comfort myself with a hostess snack cake.   

Even though those people were cruel, I wanted to fit in so badly.  I was grasping at anything to make me look the part in a sense.  I remember that a local sporting goods store was selling these beautiful embroidered sweatshirts with the school name on it.  All of the girls were wearing them, and I really wanted one.  I will never forget the Friday night that my dad went and bought me one.  I was so excited!  I wore it to school for spirit day the next week and my joy was quickly ripped away.  The girl who made my life miserable pointed at me and said, "Look at her, trying to be like us! Isn't that cute?  I am surprised they even made one in her size!"   I felt like I had been punched in the gut with an iron fist.  Devastated, I went home and cried in my room again, feeling guilty that dad had bought me the shirt,when he could have used his money for something else.   I remember wishing that I could leave that awful school.    About a year later, I would get my wish...

My family and I moved to Richmond, Indiana.  I went from a small, parochial high school to a huge public school.  Even though I was scared of the new, giant size, it was actually a blessing.  I could more easily fade into the background here...just be another face in the really large crowd.  I made a few really good friends and that was that.  I don't remember getting bullied there.  I mean, there were a few occasional fat jokes made by a couple moron boys, but that was it.  I was my own worst enemy at this point in my life.  No one was giving me a real hard time, but I hated the way I looked.  I wanted to be one of the "cool kids."  I wanted to be asked to prom.  I wanted to have a boyfriend.  That just didn't happen for me.   You know the funny thing?  I look at pictures of myself from high school and there was nothing wrong with me!  Sure, I was a little overweight, but it wasn't an appalling amount.  I so wish I could go back in time and tell my younger self to ease up a bit and stop being so hard on herself. 

               Senior Year.  Sorry for blurriness.                                                      Junior Year

As I moved on to college and into adulthood, I really did nothing to make myself healthier.  I lost weight in college because of all the walking on campus.  No crazy drop in weight though.  I dated a little, but nothing serious.  It wasn't until I was near graduation that I met Tim.  I really almost screwed that up because I couldn't believe that he actually found someone who looked like me attractive.  I couldn't get it through my thick skull, but little by little, I started to believe him.

Now, I am 34 years old and still struggling.  I am just tired of the struggle.  It is time to stop playing these stupid games with myself.  I am ready in a way that I have not been ready before.  Ready in a way that I was not ready when I joined and rejoined Weight Watchers ten thousand times.  Ready in a way I was not ready when I attempted the various fad diets out there.  The time is now and I want this so badly.  

I know that I have mentioned her a couple times already, but my late grandmother was a huge part of my life and I have missed her deeply since her passing a few years back.  When I was sad and she saw it, she would walk up to me, pat me on the leg, and say, "Chin up, sweetheart."  It always seemed to make me feel better.

Well, I wrote a poem awhile back for one of my students with that very title.  I work with teenagers on a daily basis.  For some reason, even though I hated high school, I have placed myself there professionally.  It is because I want to help kids.  I see so many girls who have the same or worse struggles than I had.  One in particular writes poetry.  She wanted me to read her poems and they were all filled with self-loathing.  I decided that the next time she opened that tattered little composition book, I wanted her to read something positive about herself.  When she left her poems with me, I found a blank page and wrote a poem for her to find.  I am not a poet, but I felt compelled to find a way to reach her.  So, I am going to close with the poem I left for her that day.

Faces of a Dressing Room...

I read a really good blog post today from one of my favorite blogs, where the author talked about her difficulty being confident enough to buy great clothes, her insecurities, etc.  I identified with every single word.  It inspired this post because it is something that has been on my mind due to a recent, somewhat unsuccessful attempt to purchase new clothes.

My experiences in a dressing room can be summed up by a few different facial expressions... (Again, I hate taking pictures of myself, but for demonstration purposes, I felt it necessary.)

FACE #1

Unfortunately, this is the most frequent look on my face.  This is the "Oh HOLY HELL!" look.  This look is reserved for those occasions where I see an awesome outfit on the hanger that I JUST KNOW is gonna look great, and then I am sucked back into reality.  Recently, this is the look that appears on my face on most of the occasions that involve trying on maxi dresses.  NONE OF THEM have EVER looked even remotely good on me, yet I keep trying them on and holding out hope that one fine day that I won't look like a manatee in the damn things.  All I want is a cute long dress that can be worn with flip flops!  Is that so much to ask?  

FACE #2

This is the look on my face that is reserved for bathing suits.  (bahahaha)  All I can say, is thank Baby Jesus that bathing suits now exist where you can buy skirt or short bottoms.  

FACE #3

This look is either really good or really bad.  Most recently, it was the look I got because I tried on a size 16 dress that actually fit...and didn't just fit, FIT WELL.  I was in shock.  When this look is good, it is usually followed by a happy dance.  Seriously, if I love an outfit or fit into a smaller size, dancing does occur.  When this look is bad, I am usually shocked and disgusted by my bat wing arm flab, muffin top (So, sad that muffin top has a negative connotation, because they are, in fact, the most delicious part of the muffin...but I digress.), or the width of my butt.  

FACE #4

This is the dressing room face that I aspire to have.  I aspire to be happy with the way I am.  This does not mean that I want every outfit I try on to magically look hot.  This means that I want to be happy in my own skin.  This means that I want to be able to look in the mirror without automatically tearing myself down...to be able to acknowledge when I actually do look good.  This face to me is happy, confident, and care free in a sense.  

Where did this all come from?  Well, I mentioned that I was inspired by another blogger, but it was really something I was toying with after an experience that I had this weekend.  I have a family wedding to go to this weekend (Congrats to Lauren and Ryan!).  Since I knew that I had this event to go to, I was in the search for a dress.  I wanted something fun and pretty for an outdoor, spring wedding.  Anyway, awhile back I found one I liked and bought it online.  I tried it on again this weekend and I had a really hard time.  It fit.  It probably looks nice, but it is almost like I feel like I don't deserve to look nice in something so fun and cute.  Although, the dress is perfectly decent, I kept looking at it and wondering if it was too short for someone like me (translation: a fat chick) to wear.   I am going to suck it up and wear it anyway because, well, I don't have time to find anything else, and hope to not be self conscious the whole time.  I just want a time where I feel pretty, fun, and confident.  It is hard to imagine that this day will ever come, but I am going to work on it.  

I really need to step outside of my box and decide to try on and wear things that I automatically assume will make me look gross.  I need to shop with friends, because most of my friends and relatives have great senses of style!  I need their help.  Are you listening friends and family?!  I need your help!  That is assuming that anyone is even reading this.  

Until that fine day where I can have more number fours than number ones, I will try to remember this:

And this...

because it is seriously hilarious...and TRUE!   hehehehe

but no, seriously, the first one... :)