My hunger, my appetites, my longings, my skin, my bones, my size are mine for the taking. I take back my worthiness, my belonging in the world of beautiful and diverse beings. I live without apology for the straight lines and curves, living tissue, vulnerable heart that hold my living, breathing manifested story.
I used to weigh myself two times a day all through college and until I had my first child -- and began again after my second was born. It started because the daily dorm breakfast of buttered cinnamon toast (three slices) ended up pushing on the seams of my jeans. When I finally got on the scale - it turned out I was up 8 pounds - Never had a weight issue before and now I was freaked.
It's only been in recent years that I am at peace with food, and I am certain that this is much more than a temporary truce. Why did it take me such a long time to appreciate the value in my acupuncturist's words? Look around, there's a standard in this country that is harmful to women. Life is lived in many shapes and sizes.
I've been around the dieting block a couple of times myself. OK, more than a couple. Right now, I'm in that unenviable spot of having no clothes that fit comfortably while I'm in a stare-down contest with summer. Who's going to blink first: My need to lose my winter poundage or that bathing suit I won't wear unless I do?