Most people's first impression of me is, "Wow! You're thin and so fit!" But what I see is I'm chunky and I can lose a few more. Granted, we are all extremely critical of ourselves. We are our own worst critics. That is why we have so many men and women who fight insecurities via relationships & Facebook!
I'm here and I'm confessing to my own nastiness here. I may be at the weight I'm supposed to be according to my age and height (according to BMI). But I'm quite squishy. Squishy to me, means, poke my butt, it's squishy. Poke my belly, it's squishy. Get it?
Anyway, I'm not fat. But I certainly don't think I'm skinny. I've had 3 children. Can't say I was health conscious back then. I ate like a fat cow and I looked like one. Not exaggerating one bit. You know, when you're only a few months along and everyone thinks you're having twins and towards the end of my pregnancy, I actually outgrew my maternity clothes. Meaning it was stretched beyond belief and ready to bust at the seams. Yes. For all 3 kids. And the doctor told me I needed to be on a diet. When I was pregnant. So you get the idea and an image now, correct? If not, think of that woman in that Gilbert Grape film confined to her couch.
Well after birthing these demons....how can I put this? Ever blow up a balloon and deflate it? Well that's me. Except with some air left in it. I inherited these ugly stretch marks everywhere. Especially in my tummy area. We're not talking about lightning bolt looking discolorations. I'm talking about the rivers. The ones with indentations where Helen Keller can run her hands across my abdomen and gasp!
So, I've been working out and changing what I'm eating the past 4 years. It definitely was NOT easy. Still isn't. But I'm learning still. I've lost some weight and I've gained it back. But I also found endurance, strength and muscle tone I have never had in my life. I started running 5ks that lead to some insane obstacle races. I'm turning 38 next month. I have to say, I'm quite proud of myself.
But going back to my belly. And the deflated balloon. I'm so uncomfortable with myself that I can't even go to a beach where I might bump into anyone I know. I even reached a point that if I DO know someone who will see me in a bikini, I give them full detailed warning about how ugly my body is. I will not wear a tankini or a one piece. They're ugly! Although I've been checking out the pinup style swimsuits. I'm afraid they'll make my squishy ass look rather large so that kinda halted that search. Plus, they're expensive! Anywho, I have this extra skin. If I lay on my side, I get that belly spillage. Or if my jeans sit below my belly, it hangs over unless I suck in or pull my pants over my belly with the belt hoops. If I'm on the toilet, I pretend I'm plastic man. Or is it Elastic man? Either one, I pull on my belly, grab it, pretend it's playdoh. The more weight I lose the more extra stretch marked skin hangs. If I gain weight, it's not so bad but then I get the muffin top. If I'm nude and place both hands on my sides and use my fingertips to pull the skin, I have the perfect belly.
Tummy tuck you say? Even a mini tuck? I went to a cosmetic surgeon. They said I'm not in horrible shape. That clients that they usually get are more overweight. They said because I'm not that big, there's not a lot of skin to pull and cut to do a tummy tuck to make a difference. If anything, I'll end up with a worse scar going across instead of up & down marks.
That being said, and the breakdown of costs after those consultations made me sad. Even if I went for it, the amount of money for it to not guarantee to take even most the marks away was not worth the pain and healing process. That means no working out either.
My only means to solve this issue is to lose body fat and build up muscle. Because if you see muscle, and a truly fit body, you can overlook those marks right???
Most people who are trying to make me feel better about it, tell me those are marks I've earned from creating my children. Or however they try to put it to make it sound so poetic. It doesn't work. I see women like Brooke Burke on the cover of Fitness magazines and I want to hate them! I'm so jealous! I've also heard that stretch marks are genetic or something like that. Whatever. I'm pissed. And I ate a huge sugar free brownie from whole foods today. That's not going to help me decrease body fat but it made me happy.
I used to live with the philosophy that I should just be happy. I should eat and drink and smoke and live vicariously. Then I see old people that are suffering with things they've could've prevented. And then. I started working out. And then I saw 80 year olds running faster than me. And then I see 60 year olds who can do what I do at the gym. And then I realize....I want to be happy with myself.
And it's hard. When I see even my husband gawk at gorgeous naked or half naked women. Maybe they were photoshopped but still. I don't think photoshop can save me.
So what's better?
I see so many chubby girls wearing things maybe a 4 year old should and walk around confidently.
How did they get to be like that?
Some heavier women commented that they'd be happy to be my size even with stretch marks.
And I'd be happy even if I was slightly porky and no stretch marks.
They can still wear bikinis and not have to cover their stomach area with their arms or towels.
