Aging Un-gracefully

I was never "the pretty one."  When I was growing up, I had the nice singing voice, the book smarts, and "great feet."  My first husband almost never looked at me as if he was appreciating what he saw.  I was scrawny, curveless, lanky, and (like most little girls I've learned) didn't feel pretty.

Then, I got divorced and found me in my mid-twenties. Gosh, I loved me!  My body wasn't perfect, but whose is?!  Anyone?... Yeah, that's what I thought. I have a great sense of humor. I love people -- helping them, listening to them, getting to know them.

A few years back, I broke my coccyx.  That was only the beginning.  I graduated from college and started working desk jobs.  Let's face it.  I've got curves now. My weight hovers around the same as the ninth month of my third and fourth pregnancies. I jog. I yoga. I dance. I walk. I play. But, I also eat what I want when I want. I had to curb the eating a little because that metabolism that burned so hot for three decades recently tanked.  I actually feel full for a while after eating.  This is brand new to me, so I'm learning to adjust.

I'll be 38 years old later this year, I've given birth to six human beings, my hair is beginning to show white, and those awesome dark, course hairs I used to loathe tweezing from my mom's chin are now popping up on mine. I'm not blind people.  I can see the roundness on my arms, my belly, my chin, and my thighs.  I know I'm aging. But, I think I've earned every single solitary wrinkle.  So, why not just let me LOVE ME instead of taking every opportunity to point out the parts of me that you believe are flawed?

Do you know what it's like to have people shocked by the way you look because of the extra 25 pounds you're carrying? It's awful. It makes me feel self conscious. I'm beginning to not want to take pictures (or pull apart the ones I am in) and not get dressed in the morning to go out in to the world.  Why do people do that?!  WE'RE ALL FLAWED DAMN IT.

And, p.s., when I was that scrawny little twig girl in junior high AND high school, I used to look at Greco-Roman art and LONG TO BE lusciously curvaceous like their women are portrayed. Muscular and strong, but also completely soft. 

This week, I walked up to the building I work in now (mirrored glass) and saw that long ago desired figure.  And I thought to myself, I love me.  I'm okay with me.  I've earned this body. Today, someone said something about the recent roundness of my face as if it were a derogatory characteristic and now I'm sitting in my bedroom crying and writing this to the empty cyber world where no one will read it and no one will change, but I will be able to say it "out loud."  I LOVE ME. I am growing OLD.  I will get wrinkly.  Stuff will sag.  My hair will be white.  And I plan to LIVE, LAUGH, LOVE, and PLAY all the way through to the end.  I've EARNED this body. I might even start wearing a toga. So, keep your damn derogatory insecurities and commentary to yourself.