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Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Running To Me

I spend a lot of time thinking about who I am.  I suppose I have to, since I'm the only one who really cares.  My husband cares about me-but not my existential questions.  He cares if I'm happy and healthy and if our marriage is working. That's really all you can ask of another person. My kids care if I show them that I love them, make their food, get them to activities, and don't yell too much.  To them, I'm simply "mom" a construct that didn't really exist before them and they're not totally wrong.
When I became a mother, I became a different person.  It didn't happen at once and it has been a really confusing road, but somewhere along the way I became Kristen 2.0...or maybe 5.0 or more.  Who knows how many different incarnations I've really had and not noticed the changes over time, but this incarnation is a big, big change.

There are many parts of this "new" Kristen that I like, and probably the best part is that I finally really love and accept my body.  I love my big butt and curvy figure.  I really like my hair.  I even like my crooked, hooked witch nose.  I love my belly and thighs and my strong arms and legs. 
This is a big deal because I have always hated and shamed myself about my body.  I was skinny in high school because I didn't eat anything but rice, salads, and drink diet soda.  I was miserable in my own skin.  I was constantly belittling myself, comparing myself to others, and so disappointed that I could never get my skin that perfect shade of tan, that I had a different body shape than in the magazines, that  my boobs never looked right-you name it, I shamed it. 
That continued into college where I suddenly started gaining weight for no conceivable reason
(it turns out that I had a pretty serious thyroid issue) and after babies when I was constantly frustrated with my body-so much so that I started devoting hours per day to working out, planning my food intake, and became obsessed and disgusted with myself because after all of that work, I still wasn't where I needed to be.  Then I gained the weight back.
Now I was totally disgusted with myself
, angry that I had let myself down, etc.  Angry that I had lost control.  Ashamed that I was the fat mom, the fat friend, the fat wife.

Last summer, I had an epiphany.  This is my body.  This is the one that I was given and the only way that I can really be who I want to be is to accept me.  That means accepting the big butt, the curvy figure, my crooked nose, my soft belly, strong legs and arms, and work with them.  I found that the parts of me that I didn't like were not problems-in fact, once I started choosing clothes to really fit my body, my perception of what I looked like completely changed.  Suddenly I could look good, feel good, wear comfortable clothes (jeans that fit a butt in them!!!!  Thank you Lane Bryant!)

Finally, I decided to exercise because I enjoy the feeling of challenging my body, not because I am disgusted by it.  Read that again.  I decided to exercise because I enjoy the feeling of challenging my body, not because I am disgusted by it.  It's true!  There is a whole different kind of exuberance that you feel when you are taking an action to get a positive result.  I went running yesterday and it was fun!  I took a selfie and I was sweaty, puffy, tired but so happy.  As I was running I thought "Wow, my legs are really strong and so are my lungs."  You know what I didn't think?  I didn't think about how disgusting my body was or how I looked or how I needed to be better and fix this now or I was a failure. 

I am so happy to have become this new version of myself, this powerful, strong, me.  I am working on getting stronger because I love this body, not because I hate what I am.  I am a mom, I am strong, I am running toward my best self, not away from someone that I am ashamed of. 


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