Accepting the 10

I was folding laundry recently (like, um, every day for the past 6 years), and I had an epiphany.  As I held up a pair of my capris and began to fold them together, my eyes fell on the number 10 in bold font on the tag.  And I cringed.  I realized that I don't like seeing that number on my pants.  I used to see a big, old 6, and it made me feel good.  Then I had a baby, and the number bumped up to 8.  Then I had another baby, and suddenly I was in the double-digits.  Size 10.  Four years have gone by, and although the Jillian Michael's Shred helps firm things up, the number on my pants stays the same.  Every time I see it, I feel fat.  But I have friends who call me skinny.  I have a husband who calls me beautiful.  I have children who rush to hug me and wrap their sweet little arms around the very body that I get disgusted by.  So maybe I'm the one with the problem.  Maybe I'm missing something they are seeing.  And I've decided it means I have to accept this number, and stop wishing it was different.

The tag on the pants and jacket says L.  Winston says that stands for Love.

1.  I want to be healthy.  I could definitely eat better...I drink 2-3 cans of pop a day and have a child-like love of candy (although, unlike a child, I have the means to head out to the store and get more whenever the mood strikes, and no one watching to make sure I save room for dinner).  I enjoy being active, and am constantly chasing my kids and going for walks.  Plus, just carrying one of these guys is a quick workout, now that the oldest is topping 50 pounds.  Try hefting that up to the top bunk 5 times a night.  So being healthy and skinny aren't always the same thing.  As long as I feel like I'm practicing moderation and taking care of my body, it shouldn't matter what size I'm wearing.

The dreaded task: shopping for new jeans

2.  I need to put it in perspective.  I don't have the stats, but I'm pretty sure there are millions of women in the world who wish they were a size 10...from both ends of the spectrum.  Women who are starving and literally don't know where their next meal will come from would be ecstatic to have such a round waist that they have to wear my size 10s.  And women who struggle on the other side, the plus-size, full-figure, Diet Coke-sipping ladies who can't find their size in stores, who resort to mumus to hide their curves...well, if any of you are reading this, don't roll your eyes and write me off because I don't even know what a weight problem is.  I'm in the middle, I'm smaller than Marilyn Monroe, I'm blessed, I get it.  And you all are right.  Being a size 10 is not an international tragedy.  Its just reality.

And the backside...lucky this one didn't get deleted!

3.  I should focus on the positive.  My photographer friend once told me that she hates giving a new bride her wedding proofs, because the first thing she does is find the flaws.  "Oh, my hair looks weird" or "I hate my nose" or "That dress makes my butt look big!"  And she sits there, dumbfounded, because looking through her lens she saw a gorgeous woman on the most exhilarating day of her life looking amazing.  But we all do this, don't we?  We don't look in the mirror and say, I am looking awesome today!  I have the prettiest blue eyes!  I love how this skirt shows off my long, sexy legs!  My lips are just the perfect size!  Personally, my eyes are always drawn to my tummy (flabby), the mole on my chin (how did Cindy Crawford pull this off?), my frizzy hair (0% chance of precipitation my butt!).  My phone rang this afternoon, and it was a friend calling to tell me I'm beautiful, and (for the millionth time) what nice legs I have, and how she wishes she was tall and lean like me.  And I thanked her, because I really needed to hear that.  I've been feeling bad about my looks, particularly feeling fat and unattractive, and it pulled my eyes off the flaws and toward positive.  She's totally right.  I have amazing legs, and I love short summer bottoms that show them off.  Even the ones with a big, old 10 on the tag.

So these are my baby steps, trying to forge a new path toward loving my body.  I would welcome anyone else's perspective, how you love yourself, or even what is your best feature?