I’ve been a big girl for a long time. Originally, I think my love for food blossomed in the fourth grade and that was when I began packing on my pounds. Ever since then food and I have been heavily involved. With my weight has come many complications and blessings. I consider my breast to be those blessings and my lack of junk in the trunk to be those complications (especially in this twerking era).
But don’t preach just yet. I love my body, I know that my sexy is all about my confidence and attitude. My curves make me who I am, they allow me to be free in my individuality. I have a big voice, big dreams, big personality and a big heart. Why wouldn’t it all be in a big body? Do I have those days where I stand in front of the mirror and suck it in? Yes. Who doesn’t?
I’ve spent years mastering my body, figuring out what works for it and what doesn’t. Understanding that as long as I have a double D chest I will never cross my arms over my chest properly. I will never be able to enjoy a built in bra or walk down a flight of stairs without the extra bounce. Zippering up my coat will always be a blind adventure for me and no matter how hard I might try laying on my back will always feel like some kind of suffocation.
Since birth people have always had this idea of what you’re supposed to look like. Based on your height, your race, your gender and your age… there is always going to be an expectation your body won’t meet. So let me tell you right now, everyone who has an opinion about your body, can suck it. Everyone is different and there isn’t a damn person on earth who has the right to judge you because the journey you’re on in life is meant only for you.
Honestly what is life if you’re not sliding to the grave with a candy bar in one hand, glass of wine in the other, banged up with a few scars, shouting at the top of your lungs: Weeeeeeee!!!!!
This, however is a small problem that needs adjusting. Unfortunately and fortunately I have been busted by the healthy police aka my doctor. After some talking and some blood work he’s told me that I have to work on lowering my cholesterol and sugar levels before June (my next check up).
This is a problem mostly because diabetes runs in my family and I’m at risk. Unless I take care of myself. So what does that mean? I’ll tell you what it doesn’t mean. I’m not calorie counting, because that’s a pathetic way to live. I’m not paying for a gym membership when I can just walk my dogs. Nor will I be starving myself either.
What I am doing is kick soda. It’s not a big lost, I don’t drink it much now anyways. I’m drinking a lot more water I’m managing my portions better and my snacks are changing. There is no more junk food. There are carrots, grapes, salads, sandwiches, apples, and you know the drill. As I said before I love my body, I’d love it thin, average or chunky.
So I’ll be working on a better me and I’m not doing it to be bikini body ready or even porn star fabulous. Because I already am. I’m doing it just because I need to be a little bit healthier and I’m doing it because I love me enough to not want to go through what my dad’s going through.
Which is another blog altogether.
So that’s my game plan. My agenda. My secret. I fully intend to stay bold and beautiful but instead of big I’m going to be better.
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