Thighs and Disappointment

The actual title is Thighs, Disappointment, and Owning my shit!  But I thought that it might get banned in a few countries, not to mention deleted by at least half of my relatively small group of followers. Oops, let the cat out of the bag….you might want to escape now!

Let me say that one of the reasons that I joined this challenge is to let my shit fly.  I want to flirt with the idea that I can have fun with this.  I want to tantalize and toy with the skeptic in me that says that work needs to be serious and hard.  I want to engage…actively engage…in fucking play and fun!  And honestly, I’m not getting paid so in that sense it’s not work, but neither is it distasteful.  I love this shit!

One of the reasons, the mental reasons, tied to obesity is the idea that the person who is overweight, does so to protect themselves.  Because of some previous event, either known or unknown, the person finds comfort and safety in overeating and in being overweight.   Segue to, my thighs.  I have been overweight for pretty much all of my life.  Not to the point of OMG, because many who looked at me just thought I was a “BIG girl”.  Well hello!  I’m not!  Yes, I’m tall, but if you look at my wrists and my ankles, you pretty much can see that, well…they are small.  That stuff around my ass…its just fat.  Big girl my ass!  LOL!  Precisely – I can use the excuse to hide, but in my case it is the layer or layers that is and has always protected me.

Now, let me talk about disappointment.  I get disappointed in myself.  I get disappointed in others.  Mostly, I get disappointed that I don’t stand up for myself and get strangled by the perception of what I think others expect from me.  Mostly my children – and my family – and my job – and my friends – and my employees – and my….OH MY!  I hide from what I perceive to be the expectation of others.  And it feeds it way right into my thighs.

OH MY!

And so what can I do about it?  I can continue to hide behind the meals and the chocolate and the late night cocktails and sweets…or, I can own it.  I can love myself enough to say, “I’ve been broken.  And I take responsibility for hiding and being fearful, and living the way I thought you wanted me to. But now I’m going to put the pieces back together and I am going to OWN MY SHIT!”  Yes, I am.

Owning it means that I will not blame someone or something else for disappointment of myself or disappointment that I believe you will have in me.  Owning it means that I am not going to fault my genetics or my moods for the inches around my thighs.  Owning it means that it is on me, whatever it is.  And from here out, I own my shit.  I own my disappointment.  I own my hope and future direction.  And, I own my thighs…the shape they are today, and the shape that I can create them in the future.  Disappointment does not get to choose…I do!  Owning it.  I’m 95% there.