Feeling Bad About Your Body?

I needed to read this today.

I'm blaming my hormones 99% on this one, but I've been feeling really fat and ugly these past few days. Been believing my own bullshit, as it were.

It's been tough of late because of a broken bone in the bottom of my foot that's been taking forever to heal, but I think that it's finally on the mend, but it's been two and a half years!

So what does 2-1/2 years of minimal exercise get you?

Well, if you take your almost-2yo to Parent and Tot Gymnastics and spend 45 minutes trying to keep your kid with his group, it makes you feel like you ran a marathon (and it makes you cry. In front of all the other parents), that's what.

The good thing that came out of yesterday?

I've realized that I need to relax just a little more in gymnastics. You know, let your kid do what he wants to so that it's fun, but at the same time keep him from interfering with the other classes going on around you, and you have to do that without touching or blocking the kid because that makes him cry and then you cry and you feel like a fucking failure as a parent, but hey, you are aware that you need to just calm the fuck down, Mommy!

The better thing that came out of yesterday?

My foot's not that sore!!

The rest of my body feels like it wants to die, but whatever. I can start (carefully) exercising again. Which is good, because the kids can run faster now, and some of the stores are pretty big around here.

The best thing that came out of yesterday?

Bedtime.

Because that's when my Confident Believer put the Scared Little Bitch to sleep.

Step # 4: Let People In

Step # 4 of the 8 Easy Steps is to Let People In.

Truly. Tell people that you trust when you need help, or you’re depressed—or you’re happy and you want to share it with them. Acknowledge that you care about them, and let yourself feel it. Instead of doing that other thing we sometimes do, which is to play it cool and pretend we only care as much as the other person has admitted to caring, and only open up half-way. Go all in—it’s worth it.

It took me a while to think on this one. And now that I'm re-reading it, I realize that I totally remembered it differently. I missed the trust part, IE tell people that you trust when you need help etc., etc. I had this whole internal diatribe going on about how far you'd let people in emotionally depending on who they were, and I compared it to how far you'd let them into your house.

For instance, you might only let a coworker in as far as your living room, and if you really liked them you might bring them into the kitchen for cookies, but you probably wouldn't let them into your bedroom. So, you might share with them that funny little thing your kids said last night (living room), or maybe you'll tell them about the not so funny little thing that your husband said to you (kitchen), but you probably wouldn't tell them about the gigantic fight you had with someone, or what position you used last night.

Well, I guess maybe that depends on who you are. . .

Anyway, I'll tuck that internal diatribe away, and maybe focus on the letting-people-that-you-trust-in part.

I let my husband in all the time. I'm an open book emotionally, so it's not that hard to tell when I'm happy, sad, glad or mad, but I do sometimes have a hard time talking about it. But Hubby's pretty good at getting me to talk about it, and it does feel pretty good, and we do talk about a lot of really deeply personal stuff, and that's scary but good too because in the end we still love each other, and it really does make our relationship that much better in the end, so I do have to agree with Kate on this one.

I also disagree with her, though. I used to open up a lot to someone who was once my best friend. She's not so much a friend anymore. And by that I mean pretty much not at all. I'll say that the "fault" for the end of the friendship is 50-50, but if you were to actually ask either of us, we'd probably both say, "It's mostly her fault."

A few years ago we did actually meet for coffee, and we tried talking on the phone a couple times, and I will admit: there is a big wall up on my part. She even sounded frustrated when she mentioned that she felt like I was putting up an emotional wall.

What? You mean that after years of my confiding everything to you, and after 'going all in and caring way more than you ever did', only to be horrendously shit on, you expect me to just be like, "Hey, oh my god! I can't believe I get to hang out with you again! I'm going to tell you everything about my life again, while you, as usual, share nothing except for Victorian-era parlour-room level stuff, and I'll just totally risk being treated exactly the same as you did before, even though it made me feel like crap, because, you know, you expect me to, even though it's been three years since you've said more than five words to me!"

Of course I have a fucking wall up. It doesn't go "Once bitten, twice shy" for no fucking reason.

 Does that mean that it will never come down? Well, at this point, the wall will probably keep you out of the house, but back then, with a lot of patience, some understanding, and a little work, you might have been allowed in to the living room, which is at least in the house.

 I'm not the only one who puts up walls. I have a friend who let lots of people in at various times in her life, and they almost always end up using whatever information/emotions she freely gave them against her. Of course she's going to put walls up, which doesn't make relationships easy for her anymore. But she is still trying to let people in, so kudos to her ;)

(That's right--I just used a smiley face as punctuation. Go ahead. Have a fit. It's okay.)

All these walls make me wonder--how do you know who to trust? When can you take the walls down completely? Maybe you have to start out with a brick wall, and then maybe the top layer can be taken off so that you can talk to people over the wall, and some people might stay behind that wall all the time, except for maybe when you really need help (like good neighbours do). And maybe after some time goes, you'll know if you can put a gate into your wall, and maybe you'll leave it unlocked.

And maybe eventually you'll maybe marry your best friend and you'll share a yard, so you won't need any walls anymore.

That is an awesome feeling. And it is worth it. It does make life better.

It's just a little scary finding those people that you can trust with your emotions.

Step # 4: Let People In

Step number four of these eight easy steps is to let people in.

My first thought is: There is such a thing as Over-Share.

I'm going to have to ponder on this one throughout the week, I think.

Because, on the surface I agree, but life experience has taught me that sometimes it's not worth it.

Hmmm.

Steps 2 and 1: Be Happy Now and Stop Believing Your Own Bullshit, Revisited

In past entries I`ve focused on body image when talking about not believing your own bullshit. I can now relate it to how clean, or not so clean, my house is.

A couple weekends ago my house was a disaster. The kind of disaster that arises from getting ready to go back to work after being off for a year. You know, where you focus on things like your back-to-work wardrobe and getting scheduling and daycare stuff sorted out, and finishing the oh-my-goodness-why-did-I-procrastinate list of things to get done before going back to work, which soon becomes the holy-fuck-I`ve-procrastinated-what-the-fuck-was-I-doing list of things to get done before going back to work.

Now, my house was only a two-week disaster, IE it was immaculate for Thanksgiving and this disaster was only two weeks after that. It was bad enough, apparently, to elicit nasty comments from my mother. You know, the kind where when my 3-year old says I`m sick today`` (he was a little tired, I think), your mom says ``That`s because the house was so dirty, so it`s a good thing we`re cleaning it up.`` That was just one comment of many.

The house was not that bad.

The next weekend, after I`ve gone back to work, I felt myself stressing out about the state of the house. It took a comment from my husband to make me realize that I was believing some serious bullshit. I was trying to hold myself up to a standard that would make any woman crack, even Martha Stewart. Well, Martha Stewart without staff.

My house really is respectably clean and tidy, just not so much by Fridays when everyone`s working full-time, and when some of us also work a second job, but that`s just a couple hours on the weekend to remedy.

My bullshit I had to stop believing? That I could be Superwoman and get It All done. And be Sane at the same time. As soon as I stopped beating myself up for not being able to hold up to an impossible standard, I was Happier.

Which brings me to this weekend. It`s my son`s First Birthday Party!

We had a few people come over, which of course means Clean-Up-Time. I'd spent all day Saturday baking, so enlisted hubby's help to tidy on Sunday. My mom, for whatever reason, was walking around with a big frowny face. When she left to run a quick errand, my husband asked, "What the fuck's wrong with your mom?"

I could only imagine that it was because we weren't 100% ready for the party two hours before the party. Well, she would have been 99% ready the day before.

Regardless, I remember thinking that I wished she could just be happy in the moment. It's her grandson's First Birthday!

I had a 30-minute period of time myself where I was stressing out, and it was making me the opposite of happy, so I had a little pep-talk with myself:

The house doesn't have to be perfect, who else would really know that the cake wasn't 100% frosted how I wanted it to be, and people are here to have fun, not watch me cry! And since they all have kids, none of us judges the other--this I know for sure.

I was super-happy after this!

Sometimes, the day is too important to focus on the bullshit that drags you down.

Step #2 Revisited: Was I Happy Now, Today?

It was tough. A busy schedule the past couple weeks has left me a little on the exhausted side. And, after checking the calendar, I've realized that I may have a touch of PMS.

So today I've been a bit whiny. The kind of whiny where your husband insists that you take a nap. So you do. And you feel better.

Anyway, today was tough. Not for anything other than some annoyances (like some gross mis- and lack of communication), but it did take some good effort and conscious thinking on my part to actually be happy.

My grandmother moved to town this weekend. Everyone, including her, is so very excited. She has a beautiful basement suite, and we'll get to see her all the time.

And yet, I found it hard to get excited today. It felt like an effort to get the kids out the door to go see her new place.

Was I really that tired? Is everyone else's bad moods affecting me? Or are my hormones making me that blah? I don't know. Maybe part of it is that I have one full week of maternity leave left, and a million things to accomplish in that time... No pressure on myself, or anything.

I do know that I am happy that she's here. I do love her place. I did manage to catch myself, and I consciously thought to be happy now, but I hope that tomorrow, or the next time I'm feeling a bit grumpy, I can give myself a pep-talk sooner.

My problems really are quite small after all.

Whose Bullshit Are You Believing about your Body Self-Image?

I was at the pool today (the boys have lessons). I take the baby into the women's change room while my husband takes our toddler into the men's. We don't use the family rooms because there are only two at this particular pool, and the wait time is annoying.

I cannot change in the privacy cubicles--there is no safe place to put the baby; the "play-pen" (it looks more like a baby-jail, complete with bars!) is out in the open area, and sometimes I need to use it to keep Mr. Squirmy Pants from smashing his head on the (disgusting) hard tile floor by falling (crawling) off the benches.

So I just disrobe and let it all hang out while I'm changing. (I'm no good at "draping" with the towel.)

Do I have a perfect body? Fuck no. I'm 5'6" ish, 200+/- pounds, I had two kids (in my mid-to-late thirties), I haven't exercised regularly for a few years now (but I do try), I like chocolate a little too much, and I don't always have time to shave my legs. I'm lumpy, I'm bumpy, and one side of my cleavage is three times the size of the other side (they just grew that way).

Do I like my body? Honestly? Usually I don't. But, my husband still thinks I'm hot, and his penis concurs, so I've been trying really hard to if not love my body, to at least like and accept it without judgement. I know what I have to do to get it to where I'll love it; I'm not looking for perfection, but I'd love to be more fit.

Anyway, back to the pool. Yes, I'm sure that some ladies are looking at me and they're thinking, "Wow, she's really comfortable with her body!" Um, no. I'm not. Or at least, I wasn't. It's more a matter of "I'm naked out of necessity." The first few times I had to tell myself that "If anyone doesn't like how I look naked, they don't have to look."

You know what happens? If you keep telling yourself that, or something like that, enough, and if you get publicly naked often enough (appropriately--like in the pool's change room--not in the pool itself), pretty soon you are comfortable with your own body. Or at least resigned enough to it that you don't really care, and are, therefore, for lack of a better word, comfortable.

I wish everyone at the pool felt that way about their bodies. I see super-fit and hot mamas struggling with their crawling babies because they're trying to change in a tiny box so that you can't see them. I see beautiful women struggling with draping while they change; you can tell by their posture that they're trying so hard to be comfortable with themselves, but that inside they're failing miserably. I see gorgeous little girls, young girls, who are already so obsessed and uncomfortable and ashamed of their bodies because that is all they see from their adults, that they have to use the cubicles, and that makes me sad.

Seeing all of this tonight reminded me of this post about not believing your own bullshit. (You may also wish to check this one out.)

And then I was reminded of these comics. They're awesome. And so relevant. And they're a perfect example of how easy it is to let other people's bullshit become your own bullshit.

After looking at the comics, be sure to scroll down to the end and view the slide show titled "Meet our Body Image Heroes". These people rock. They've said a big "NO" to believing their own bullshit and/or everyone else's bullshit.

I have two three questions for you:

How do these comics make you feel? How do you feel about your own nakedness in public (change room situation), and/or in private? How do you feel about other people's nakedness in public?

Okay, four questions:

Whose bullshit are you believing about your body self-image?

The Third Easy Step for World Dominance. I Mean Flat Abs and Amazing Sex.

I've been looking at 8 Easy Steps for getting flat abs, amazing sex, and ruling the world. Number three is:

 Look at the stars.

It won’t fix the economy. It won’t stop wars. It won’t give you flat abs, or better sex or even help you figure out your relationship and what you want to do with your life. But it’s important. It helps you remember that you and your problems are both infinitesimally small, and conversely, that you are a piece of an amazing and vast universe. I do it daily; it helps.

Huh. This makes me think of that scene in Ants where one little tiny ant is in therapy because he feels small and insignificant. He's told that he is small and insignificant. Pan out to a gazillion ants working away for the colony. 

It's a bit depressing, but in the end, isn't he important to somebody?

Looking at the stars is helpful. It might not feel like it right now, but your problems are little, really. But you are amazing because without you, and without the rest of us, the universe would be incomplete; it would just be a bunch of stars with no one to admire them. That we know of.

Be Happy Now (Step #2)

Step number two of the 8 Easy Steps is "Be Happy Now."

I love this:

Not because “The Secret” says so. Not because of some shiny happy Oprah crap. But because we can choose to appreciate what is in our lives instead of being angry or regretful about what we lack. It’s a small, significant shift in perspective. It’s easier to look at what’s wrong or missing in our lives and believe that is the big picture—but it isn’t. We can choose to let the beautiful parts set the tone.

I think that Kate Bartolotta summed up in one short paragraph (for free) what took an entire book, a DVD, and several Oprah episodes to push down our throats. I mean help us. By helping Rhonda Byrne make a lot of money.

Ahem.

Personally, when The Secret came out, I remember thinking, "Hey, haven't I heard this before? Like, when I was a kid trying to learn how to ride horses and I pretty much sucked at it and my mom told me to visualize myself riding and what it would look like? And what did she call that . . . ? Right. Self-visualization (I picked a random website after a quick browser search. Okay, it wasn't entirely random, but it was the first one that looked like what I was looking for, but you'll probably actually read it before I will), a technique that sports coaches have been using for years. Years.

Visualize what you want and how to get there.

Back on topic. Ahem.

Okay, firstly, let's look at the "I'm a realist" view of Step 2.

Being happy now can be hard to do. Some days you do literally get shit on. Or you get hot tea spilled on you, bend back your big toenail 3/4 of the way back, and watch your daughter break her collarbone all on the same day (and maybe throw in a major-life-thingy like an illness or job loss). Let's face it. You are going to have some days where all you want to do is cry, so setting the BHN goal at 100% right off the bat might make you feel like a failure in your near future.

This brings us to the "Positive" view of Step 2.

I'm going to honestly try to be happy now, being thankful for all of those little joys in my life (like the cookies that I have in my cookie jar because my toddler insisted on making cookies even though I was dead-tired and the thought of cleaning up the mess was depressing) instead of being whiny about the little annoyances in my life (like a cookie-dough-and-flour decoration scheme in my freshly-cleaned kitchen).

And while I'm honestly trying to be happy now, I'm not going to beat myself up if I derail a little bit. It's okay to cry; sometimes it makes it easier to start over and say, "Okay, why was I sad, and was it worth being sad about, and can I change a thought here or there to make it easier to be happy?" I'll probably have to make lots of little changes often about how I think about thoughts that make me grateful instead of resentful, and happy instead of whiny and depressed.

Eventually it should become a habit.

And now, how I was doing Step 2 before I knew that there was a Step 2.

I have already been doing this on my own for a while now. Sometimes when I'm having a bad day I remember a  thought that a character had in Nicholas Sparks' The Lucky One. The dude in the story (so do not remember his name) has recently returned to the States from fighting in a war somewhere. He doesn't feel sorry for the people who are getting upset over not getting the best possible parking spot at Starbucks; there are people elsewhere in the world who wake up wondering if they're going to be blown to bits today.

When I'm getting upset I often stop myself and say, "self, is this a parking-spot-at-Starbucks kind of thing? Or is this an I-might-watch-my-entire-unit-die-horribly-and-painfully kind of thing?" If it's the former, it's pretty easy to find something to be happy about (like I have a car and I can afford to get a coffee). If it's the latter, well, if you're watching, you're still alive. Not that you should be happy about watching everyone die, because really, that would make you a horrible person. But, you are alive, and while that probably will not be easy to deal with, it can be something to at least be thankful for.

Anyway, Thanksgiving is coming, so this is a good Step to be thinking about.

What are we thankful for, and why does it make us happy?

Does Every Woman Have the Same Bullshit that They Believe about Themselves?

I watched the season premiere of "The Big Bang Theory" last night.

Howard's been rubbing high-estrogen cream on his mother's back for weeks, and he hasn't been wearing gloves. He gets a little emotional. He becomes the Comedic-Stereotypical-Female; you know the one: she listens to, and believes her, own bullshit as told to her by the Scared Little Bitch inside of her.

As Bernadette tells him that the cream absorption is why he's been "bloated, and moody, and a giant pain in the ass", and he hugs a pillow to himself while responding that he feels "so stupid. And fat," I couldn't help but think of how women not only Believe Their Own Bullshit, but we all believe some of the same bullshit.

So then I got to thinking, is it, then, Our Own Bullshit? Or is it everyone else's bullshit, and we're just following along with it because that's easier than Believing in Ourselves?

It then got me thinking about how a local drugstore used to stock women's magazines--you know, the ones with all the skinny/fit, hot, beautiful women who've been airbrushed to death on the covers--right across the aisle from the chocolate. It was like they knew that you'd look at these unattainable ideals, feel like shit about yourself, and then sooth your soul with boxes of Lindt truffles.

Then my thoughts went back to, Whose bullshit is this, anyway? There are lots of days where I feel like Howard; I just want to cuddle up on the couch with a pillow and a soft blanket, eat chocolate, and read a book so that I don't have to think about how fat and stupid I feel. Do I feel that way because "Cosmo" is telling me to?

No.

I don't buy those magazines because I know that I'll never be 5'10", 110 pounds, and I don't want to try to kill myself (literally) to try and be that. I also know that I don't need to wear hundreds of dollars worth of makeup to make me attractive. Just because I don't feel attractive doesn't mean I'm not hot and sexy. Just ask my husband's penis.

I feel that way because of how I see myself in the mirror. Rather, it's how my SLB sees herself in the mirror. My Confident Believer sees my nice smile and beautiful hair, and I just need to teach myself how to listen to her more often than I do to the SLB.

My hope is that one day the SLB will be silent.

Then the show went on, and I was wonderfully distracted by the scene where Howard and Raj felt each other up. It was still a scene that was full of Our Own Bullshit, but I laughed so hard I missed some of it for the tears in my eyes. I've just watched it a second time. I'll have to watch it again.

Because these two scenes alone can show us how much bullshit about ourselves we believe, and how utterly ridiculous that is, and then we can laugh it all away and start fresh, and start believing the Truth about ourselves.

Stop Believing Your Bullshit (Step #1)

Step #1 of
How to Get Flat Abs, Have Amazing Sex and Rule the World in 8 Easy Steps
is Stop Believing Your Bullshit.

Kate Bartolotta put it this way:

All that stuff you tell yourself about how you are a commitment-phobe or a coward or lazy or not creative or unlucky? Stop it. It’s bullshit, and deep down you know it. We are all insecure 14-year-olds at heart. We’re all scared. We all have dreams inside of us that we’ve tucked away because somewhere along the line we tacked on those ideas about who we are that buried that essential brilliant, child-like sense of wonder. The more we stick to these scripts about who we are, the longer we live a fraction of the life we could be living. Let it go. Be who you are beneath the bullshit.

Stop listening to that Scared Little Bitch inside of you and start listening to the Confident Believer. They're like the devil and angel riding on your shoulders, but instead of pressuring you to do good things or wicked things, one is bullying you to feel horrible about yourself, making you doubt yourself, and the other one is cheering you on, making you believe in yourself.

Or as these Fabulous Ladies say, you have your Bad Wolf and you have your Good Wolf (scroll down or search the categories; you'll find it).

So what is my Bullshit that I have to stop believing?

On the days that I really hate myself, the SLB changes the lyrics so that all I hear is Bif Naked's voice screaming "I hate myself today," and then she tells me that I'm fat, lazy, stupid, a horrible mother, ugly, socially inept, a terrible wife, a neglectful friend, incapable of dealing with life's little bumps, and that I don't deserve to be happy, I don't deserve to have time for myself, and that my life is just too hard and I'm too tired, so I should just cry all the time.

Fuck her.

First of all, my life isn't that hard, so get over it.

As Kate B says:

If you can read this, your life is pretty awesome.

Setting aside our first world problems and pettiness, if you are online reading this, you have both electricity and wifi or access to them. Odds are you are in a shelter of some sort, or on a smart phone (and then kudos to you for reading this on the go). Life might bump and bruise us, it may not always go the way we plan and I know I get frustrated with mine, but here’s the thing

You are alive.

Exactly.

I need to stop listening to my SLB and I need to stop believing everything she says. I have to let my CB be stronger, and let her speak in a louder voice; I need to stop muzzling her, no matter how insistent the SLB is about it.

I'm not fat. Okay, I'll be realistic and I'll admit that I need to get more exercise, but it's not because I want to look like a porn star; rather, I'd like to be fit and healthy--I'm in my late thirties and my kids are three and under; being around for them and being able to do things with them is pretty important. And since I'm physically able to exercise, I don't really have a good enough excuse not too. I mean, if Arthur Boorman can change his life, after being told by almost everybody that there wasn't any hope for him, WTF is my excuse, SLB? I have to start believing that no matter how tired I am, exercise will make me feel better (and it does--I know it does--so again, WTF?).

I'm not lazy. I'm not super-type-A-with-lots-of-energy, at least not every day, but I accept who I am in regards to how much I get done. This is where my Bad Wolf needs to shut up about how much housework I'm not getting done, and the Good Wolf needs to say, "Meh, that laundry will still be there tomorrow; go play with your kids."

I'm not stupid. Sometimes I have moments that speak otherwise, but I'm really smart. Sometimes I'm really tired, so I'll do stupid things, but at least I learn from my mistakes. Or try to get some sleep.

I'm not a horrible mother, a terrible wife, or a neglectful friend. My kids are happy and they love me, my husband is happy and he loves me, and my friends love me--and sometimes we aren't too busy to do more than just talk on the phone.

I'm not ugly. So shut the fuck up, Bitch. You are no longer allowed to be around when I'm looking in a mirror. Believer, start talking louder!

I'm not socially inept. I'm shy. And, sometimes, the Brain-to-Mouth Filter is missing, or completely clogged, or part of the thought gets side-tracked on the way down, and what comes out doesn't sound at all like what I wanted it to. I need to believe in myself more when I'm in a group situation.

I am capable of handling life's little bumps. Sure, it's easier to do when I'm rested and well fed, but I can do it. My phone got shattered this week. Shattered. By a dog and a chicken pot pie. Not my dog. The pie was for my friend. Yep, it was her dog. I did not once get upset. Until I learned that when they fix it, they're going to wipe everything. I'll lose all of my pictures and contacts. I hated myself for sending the phone out for repair instead of getting a new screen myself (I didn't know you could). "I'm going to lose all of those pictures of the kids, waa." Then I said, "I still have my kids," and I felt better. It's just one of those things, and so long as I learn what I need to (back up your smartphone regularly, don't carry your phone on top of a pie when a dog is really happy to see you), it's all good.

I do deserve to have time for myself. It refreshes me, and I'm a lot more patient with my kids. I do deserve, therefore, to take some time to write everyday; I shouldn't have to feel guilty about this pleasure. So if I feel like I'm getting snippy and overwhelmed, it's okay for me to do something for myself (even if it's just reading a nice fluffy book while my kids watch BabyTv or TreeHouse).

Most importantly, I do deserve to be happy. Not happy because my life is perfect, but happy because I just am (I think this is step #2, so more on it later).

I'm sure that some days I'll need to have a good little cry, but I find that that gets rid of a lot of negative shit, and it makes room for all the good stuff. It's like taking all of the boxes of Negative Reinforcements that the Scared Little Bitch has filed away over the years, and shredding them, and making room for the great artwork that my Confident Believer is creating in my life.

Now if you all will excuse me, I'm going to go dig up some Bif Naked and I'm going to rock it.

Because "I Love Myself Today."

Spinny

Looking at "How to Get Flat Abs, Have Amazing Sex, and Rule the World in 8 Easy Steps"

I found another checklist of things to do. It's only eight things. Not 101. At first glance it looks like I can complete this list before the 101 Things list, but I suppose this depends on how damaged my psyche is...

Before I even get to the Eight, I have to say that I love the statement:

If you can read this, your life is pretty awesome. 

Yes, it is.

I have to run right now, but I'm going to look at #1 later tonight: Stop believing your bullshit.

It sounds simple.

I'm a little worried.