Friday, October 28, 2005

Here's to the Ladies Who Lunch

I hate dieting.

Hate
it.

There is nothing worse to a girl who loves food that to deprive myself of it. Right now I am on the Special K diet. This diet consists of... you got it! Special K cereal. A bowl for breakfast. A bowl for lunch or dinner. 2 snacks of fruit or veggies in between and then a sensible dinner or lunch. Although I do love cereal, it gets old. And fast. Trying to get to the gym as much as I can, as well, although with the new chill in the air most evenings I would rather curl up under blankets and stay cozy than run my ass off on a treadmill.

Josh's return looming in the future has certainly given me the motivation (which I usually lack) to stay on my diet. Picturing him coming home to a hot, in shape fiance is definitely better than the vision of him returning to the goodyear blimp (give or take 10 lbs). Plus, the added appeal of my ability to keep up with him while working out is always in the back of my mind as well. Josh is an in shape guy. Muscular and strong, he has the endurance of the energizer bunny! And then there's me... muscle disease that makes me ridiculously weak, and therefore seemingly impossible to tone myself more. I'm never happy with my body. Some days I am less unhappy than others, but generally speaking I usually find flaws.

The most frustrating part is that I surround myself with beautiful people. They are all thin, all strikingly lovely, and all unaware of their own beauty. Or at least, most of them are. These women, all of whom I love, only get more gorgeous as we grow older. And although I am aware that beauty is not a competition, I can't help feeling as though I continue to fall short. If I lose 5 pounds, my girlfriend loses 10. I look at size 6 and the rest of my friends flock to the 2s and the-who-the-eff-is-this-small-0s. My hair is virtually forever at that in between stage, where my best friend's hair looks amazing short, in between, and longer. At pool parties my friends don the bikini, but I just can't bring myself to venture out of my tank-ini, a covering my flaws and hiding them from the world. And, of course, I only want want the best for them and seeing them glow with beauty makes me happy. But at the same time, I can't help but continue to feel like the ugly duckling.

And it's not as if I hate myself. I think I can look cute. Sometimes even really cute. But there's never a day that goes by that I don't see the blemish on my cheek, or the odd sag in my pants, every little thing that distorts the image in the mirror back into the Chubby Girl I used to be. I hate that girl. I hate how she looks, but most of all, I hate how she feels. I understand in my logical mind, that I am not "fat." I just don't know how to make myself not feel fat. I always feel fat- even after a week of bowls of Special K.

I applaud the women who like what they see in the mirror. The women who put on the two piece, even though they might not have the body of every Laguna Beach star (who looks like that at 16?!). The women who love their bodies, and embrace them- flaws and all. The women who order dessert on dates and anything-but-a-salad. The women who work out to be healthy, not to lose the imaginary layers they've built on with years of insecurity. I'm jealous of the women who've learned to love who they are on the inside and out.

And the ones who don't eat cereal as a staple.
posted by Kellie @ 10:27 AM |

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