Not that I’m obese or anything, but no matter how many times I up the incline on the treadmill and put myself through the agony of the #SquatChallenge, my body refuses to get the memo that we’re on a summer quest to get Beyonce-booty, video Instagram vixen body type fit.
Thighs, tummy, hair volume, not enough clavicle, *sigh, f-u burrito bowl, chips, guac and Daiquiri,* and the list goes on. I don’t hate my body but like most women, when fresh off a hot shower, if I stare at myself and all my glory long enough, I can find a few areas I’d surgically alter if given the option and stacks of excess funds.
But flaw counting can be tiring, and borderline depressing. So this morning I tried something new. Instead of sighing deeply as I toweled off, styled my hair, brushed my teeth and did any other action in close proximity to a mirror, I looked my reflection square in the skin and met the critical gaze with best *Kanye shrug*. And then like my third grade teacher said, I met each negative with a positive, thus cancelling my day of any ill feelings toward my physique. And like the perfect end to a Disney movie, the trajectory of my day was forever changed.
It’s amazing what can happen when we try a little tenderness. It sounds so simple — love yourself. But the simplest things sometimes can be the toughest to digest. As a twentysomething with a decent grip on life and approaching 30 way too fast, you would think most of my body image issues would be null and void by now. But every morning at 7:20AM my 14-year old self rears her insecure head for a few short minutes to remind me just how imperfect I am. But the reoccurring game of morning mirror terror tales stop here.
Life is short and so are my mornings. In the time I spend critiquing curves my future husband will surely love, I could be doing so much more. Like finally reading daily affirmations on a daily basis, packing a lunch, trying a new hairdo, or putting a little more effort into beating rush hour traffic.
Rome wasn’t built in a day, and I’m a few booty shots short of being a brick house, so why even try? At the end of the day we are who we are, and that’s enough. And if it isn’t, oh well, because I doubt any drastic changes will be made within the next 20 years.
Besides, when all else fails, just buy a pair of shoes.