I’ve come to realize some disturbing trends in how I chase after feeling fit. Patterns that involve extreme dieting or seriously limiting my food intake for days on end, sometimes surviving on a small single meal each day. The scale is a harsh judge, with happiness appearing only when it dips below 126 pounds—I like my body best when I can see defined abs, feel my ribs, and without any signs of cellulite on my legs or ass. When this standard of beauty is being met, which happens about as often as I make it to the gym on a Monday morning, looking in the mirror is only —manageable. The sad reality: I can’t remember a time when I truly felt sexy, ever.
Well, fuck that. I need a shift in my search for sexiness. Instead of torturing myself with extreme diets, I need to focus on actually nourishing my body with real, wholesome foods—fresh fruit and vegetables. Forget obsessing over losing weight or shaming my belly, boobs, and bum. How about making sure my body has the nutrients it needs? Because let’s be honest, I’m halfway to seventy and recently had to visit the chiropractor after someone knocked on the door and startled me.
I want to go beyond chasing that instagram model look and focus instead on my health and strength. Finding time for activities I enjoy, like basketball, volleyball, tennis, yoga, and meditation. Which also has the added benefit of boosting my mood, energy, and confidence.
I want to make mindful choices when it comes to the foods I put in my body. It’s not about getting rid of my favorite treats, but eating less sugar and processed foods would probably do me some good.
Perhaps the most challenging part for me is embracing acceptance and recognizing that bodies come in different shapes and sizes. I need to prioritize my wellbeing—mental, emotional, and physical. This means practicing self care and focusing on loving myself and being kind to myself. I listened to Andrew Peterson and teared up to his singing, “How does it end when the war that you’re in is just you, against you, against you,” gotta learn to love your enemies too.
If my body were a book, the pages would be filled with mostly downs and very few ups. The chapters would be messy, with many a page for insecurities, self-doubt, and negative perception. (Table of Contents included for your enjoyment)
Chapter one, “The Lettuce Era,” would showcase my belief that salads could make me sexy, turning my fridge into a rabbit’s sanctuary and leaving me starving.
Chapter two, “Liquid Lunches,” would detail the times I swapped meals for smoothies and juicing, convincing myself that hunger was just a state of mind, only to discover that well, it wasn’t.
Chapter three, “The Fast and the Furious,” would highlight my endless attempts at intermittent fasting, where I fasted furiously and fantasized about food almost every waking hour.
Here’s to insisting that the next chapter is one of love, acceptance, and care. A choice to nurture my body with better nutrition, exercise, and practices that are here to really help my health.
I do love a happy ending. Chapter four, “I’m bringing Sexy Back”.
UNSCRIPTED 