Day 11: An Angry Breakthrough

 

The other day (Day 11, or 10, f*** it, I don’t even know at this point) I was driving and felt a wave of anger and exasperation overtake me.

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Hold on, ’cause I’m about to share it with you. [Warning: Bad words may be used.]

I realized that holding on to this B.S. about how my body looks is not only a HUGE waste of time (totally knew THAT already!) but it is also weighing me down!

No pun intended. Although…

If I could NOT worry about my body imagine how freeing that would be?

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And ultimately, what I am searching for in my life is FREEDOM, right?

Freedom from financial stress.

Freedom from boredom and stagnation.

Freedom to do what I want with this one precious life.

If that means napping the afternoon away…then I can.

If that means spending an entire weekend with my nose in a book…then I can.

Experiencing Paris in every season? Mais oui. That too.

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Right now, for me, releasing this obsession with my physical body is the ultimate in freedom. 

I have been so hung up on how I don’t look like I did when I was 20, or 30, or even 40…

(side note: holy crap, I’ll be 50 next year!)

Shit – who does? And if they do, how much time do they spend each week so they do?  (more on this below.)

Let’s face it – the reality is that more than 90% of you reading this don’t even remember me from high school or college when I was super fit. [small win: I fight the inclination to include a photo of super fit me here.]

So how ridiculous is it that how I look now doesn’t matter to anyone but me.

Just me.

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I mean, if you are my friend you are not going to be an asshole and say, “Wow, you’ve really packed on the pounds, haven’t you?

Although, I did have a longtime family “friend” once say something similar. “So, did you just never lose the weight after having the kids?” he asked.

We are no longer in contact.

If my health was at risk maybe one of you would say I am worried about you but it’s not,  so you don’t have to.

Really,  I am the only one who gives a shit that I look like this.

Everyone else is focused on their own cellulite. #LOL

Look, if I didn’t bitch and moan publicly about how I went to look into getting a breast reduction and was told I am “obese” and therefore have to lose weight before they will refer me, then you would never know.

If I didn’t spend 21 days ranting and raving and complaining online about how unhappy I am with my body you would never know. 

How lame is that?

I am a little competitive though. #keepitreal

So, when I see other folks around my age kicking ass and looking great I feel a twitch like, “Hey, that’s a challenge! I could do that!

Hey, maybe you’ve  gone through something and you’re in this midlife thing now and you’ve lost 70 pounds and you’re looking really awesome and super ripped and the size you were when you were in high school…and, well, I think that’s just awesome.

Good for you!

As long as you are healthy (and not trying to hide some deep issues that you’re just not addressing) and you want to spend that amount of time on your physical fitness I say Go. For. It.

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I know how much time and dedication it takes, because I did that already.

I don’t need to make any great athletic accomplishments at this point in my life, it’s just not what I’m trying to achieve. [see above re: freedom]

I have been there and done that. I got the T-shirt, and the medal and the plaque, AND the record, so yeah,  I’m cool with that aspect of myself. #finally

It’s important for me to recognize that I am making a conscious choice to focus on other aspects of me and my life right now. Like my writing business. Like adoring myself just the way I am (like my sweetie does).

I thought about digging deeper and trying to find out why I feel this way – what are my beliefs about myself now that I’ve gained weight, blah blah blah.

And then I said, “Fuck that. You’ve wasted enough time on this bullshit already, Girl. Get over your volumptous self already!”

I am the only one who is unhappy with my body. No one else gives a shit becuase they are all wrapped up in their own shit blanket. And if they give a negative shit about how I look then they are not on Team Jessica (that goes for my Inner Mean Girl too!)

This is what I have to say to all that negative, time wasting, holding me down negativity:

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Rebelliously,

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