My body's nobody's body but mine

Yesterday, I attended a bridal shower for my cousin's lovely bride-to-be and while chatting with my aunts the conversation naturally turned to my upcoming nuptials. One aunt commented on how my mom had said she had lost 17 pounds and then asked how Mom had done it. I said Mom was just being more aware of what she was eating and then cracked a joke about how Mom was more concerned with losing weight before my wedding than I was.

But the thing is, it's not really a joke. I'm not stressed or panicked about losing weight for the wedding.

I had a dress fitting a few weeks ago and that was a little stressing but I wasn't wearing the proper undergarments and the bridal shop didn't have bras that went beyond a D-cup (and I'm beyond a D-cup...sigh), so while the dress fit it didn't look perfect, you know? But I'm going back on Wednesday, armed with all my undergarments, and I'm convinced it will look perfect. And I haven't lost any weight since buying the dress.

I don't even know when I stopped worrying about that. It might have been when more important things - seating charts and making favours and meeting with our officiant and planning the ceremony and finalizing the reception set-up - came up. It might have been when the Beau had chest pains and was later diagnosed with periocarditis and body image was the last thing on my mind. It might have been when I started spending more time on xoJane, an any-body-positive (among other things) website. It may have even been when I did some shopping and found a bunch of things that fit at a size I could handle.

Or it may have just been that I'm really getting tired of hating on myself. Like, just fed up and done with it. Because, honestly, it takes a hell of a lot of energy to be constantly down and degrading towards myself and there are so many more things in life that are much more deserving of that energy.

Also, acceptance, which is hella major too. Being on Weight Watchers let me prove to myself that I can lose weight, but I have to track everything I eat, measure all my portions, plan ahead as necessary and get on a scale each week to make sure I'm doing it all properly. This did help make me more aware of what I put in my body, which is a good awareness to have, but the little things started to weigh on me and really sucked the fun out of living (at least for me; I don't want to take away from the success that others have had with the program).

So I know I can lose weight and I know I can gain it all back and now I know that this body, the one I'm currently in, the one I'll be getting married in, that the way this body is now could be the way my body just is. This me is the me, where I'm happiest, at least physically. And by accepting this physical happiness maybe I can move to mental and emotional happiness with myself.

Of course, I'm not about to eat pizza and chocolate cake for every meal. I'm still going to run (currently nursing a sore calf - boo!) and do strength training (three sets of 10 FULL push-ups are now a regular thing for me - hurrah!) and be aware of what I'm eating. It's not dieting or trying to lose weight; rather, it's doing the things for my body that will help my body do things for me. Eating well and being active will give me the energy I need to run 5K and plan a wedding and help keep the house tidy and go out for friends' birthdays and dance at my wedding and chase after my nephews and all the other things that make life good. And my good life will include wine and too many fun-sized chocolate bars and pizza and chocolate cake because these things make me happy.

Now this isn't just some epiphany that will last forever. Body acceptance and body love will still take work, every single day. But it's about starting with good thoughts ("I look good in this dress") rather than bad ("This dress makes me look fat. I can't ever wear it again.") and embodying those good thoughts, acting like I look good (but not being arrogant because that sucks) and believing that I deserve to feel good about myself. And that leads to happiness and, really, isn't being happy what it's all about?

Measurements

Wow, it's been awhile since I've been here. That's really only because nothing new or exciting has been happening; even with the wedding coming up, summer has been pretty relaxed. I'm still running (though I've fallen off my schedule the last couple of weeks - back on it today!) and the wedding plans are coming along but it's all the little things now that, frankly, aren't that thrilling to talk about.

So life has been going on and I've been doing some shopping - because that's what I do - and I have realized that I need to get new bras desperately bad.

I've been meaning to go into a specialty lingerie store and get properly measured, but until I find the time for that, I did some measurements at home. Now, armed with a better idea of what my bra size actually is, I'm excited to go shopping again and to try on sizes that will actually fit!

While I had the tape measure out, I got bold and decided to do my hips. I'm not quite confident enough to share the numbers, but I wasn't completely horrified by my hip measurement, which was pleasantly surprising.

Then I measured my waist.

No way I'm sharing that number; it stung more than a little.

HOWEVER -

Armed with a hip measurement and a waist measurement I was able to calculate waist-hip ratio and see what that number meant in terms of my health. A higher waist-hip ratio can mean you have a higher risk for health problems like heart disease and type-II diabetes. So I plugged my measurements into a calculator and braced for the answer.

To my shock and surprise, my ratio puts me at LOW RISK! LOW RISK! I honestly thought that I had a higher risk - and this number doesn't take my family history of type-II diabetes into consideration - but based on my body composition, I'm okay.

The waist-hip ratio calculator had a link to a body fat calculator as well, so I figured in for a penny, in for a pound (ha!) and plugged in the numbers I needed to get my body fat percentage.

Again, shock and surprise at the outcome: I'm acceptable. Sure, it's not in the athletic range or high performance or anything, but still - I'M ACCEPTABLE! Again, I was expecting to be in the obese range so suddenly I'm feeling okay about myself.

Yes, I'd still like to slim down. Yes, I'm a little anxious over the fact that I haven't lost more weight before the wedding. Yes, I'm still freaking out about my double chin for my wedding photos.

But these numbers have definitely made me feel better about myself and have told me that I'm acceptable, just the way I am.

The best day ever

I had a most wonderful day yesterday.

It actually started Saturday evening, when my (officially-future-but-unofficially-current) sister-in-law emailed me about going ice skating Sunday morning. She and I had talked about this before and thanks to her initiative it was finally to be realized. She picked me up Sunday morning and we headed off to Colonel Sam Smith Skating Trail, an awesome figure-8 trail in Etobicoke. During our lovely 45-minute skate, I mentioned I was picking up my wedding dress later that afternoon and that the Beau may or may not be coming with me.

It just so happened she had no other plans for the day and when the Beau opted not to go get my dress with me, she came along and we had a lovely afternoon of shopping and lunch out.

Now, I've had plenty of days like this (though this is my first with her) so what made it so special? Sure, picking up my wedding dress was pretty awesome and having the chance to show her my first choice for bridesmaids dresses (she's also in the wedding) and getting her ringing endorsement was great. And spending a few hours wandering around Michael's was wonderful too.

But what really made it the best was the informal conversations we had that, from time to time, ventured into clothing size territory. And, for the first time in a very long time, I had a conversation about clothes sizes that didn't focus on how high (boo) or low (yay) the number was or on how a little bit of weight gain was the end of the world or how certain body types are preferred over others.

And it was so refreshing!

I don't even think she realized she was doing this, but it was wonderful to spend an afternoon with a woman who is comfortable in her body; who is aware that fitness is important but who does it to make herself feel good rather than to conform to a certain ideal; who never once said anything to me to make me feel bad about myself or my clothing sizes.

I came home and gushed all this to the Beau and how it made me realize that I look good the way I am and that it's okay to want to lose weight and to get in shape but to do it for me rather than because external influences think I should and that it's no big deal what the number is on the tag as long as the clothes fit well.

He looked and me, smiling, and said, "That's what I've been telling you!"

And, yes, he has been telling me that and of course I listened to him but I never really believed it until yesterday. It's amazing how such a simple thing - an afternoon shopping with my sister-in-law - turned in to such an epiphany-filled day.

I think I just might finally be on my way to really, truly, honestly loving myself and it's a wonderful feeling.

Via Pinterest

WW Weigh-In #27

Yesterday was not a good day. In fact, this week has not been a good week and it was compounded just a bit when I got on the scale:

Last week: 185.2 lb
This week: 187.2 lb
Total gained this week: 2.0 lb

Weight loss target: 181.8 lb
To reach target: 5.4 lb

Honestly, I was taken by surprise. A 2lb gain was much more than I expected and proceeded to deflate me immensely. So I pouted and scowled and stormed around the house for a bit, then put on my best fake smile and went to get my hair cut.

Interestingly enough, that's where my mood broke (and not just because of my fresh new 'do).

While chatting with my stylist, Sergio, we started talking about football (a.k.a soccer), as he's Argentinian and I knew he was into it. While he didn't watch Euro Cup (no Argentina), we started talking about football players and, of course, David Beckham. I then expressed that I don't find Becks attractive; his is not the body type I enjoy. Sergio was surprised to hear this, as he thought all women lusted for the Beckham-bodied type. We then started talking about body shapes and sizes and how men feel pressure to look good (which, honestly, surprised me) and he said that what attracts him most, beyond womanly curves, is sensuality and a woman who projects a confidence and love of herself. This is the first time I've heard first-hand a man say this, without being pointedly asked or without some fishing for compliments. He finished the conversation by saying, "No matter what shape, there someone out there for everyone."

Amen to that.

And, without even realizing it, my mood was slowly buoyed and finally lifted by the end of the conversation. I'm even still feeling better today. I still want to be slimmer, more toned and more fit, but now I feel calmer having heard a man essentially say it's okay to be me as I am. Just own it.

Perhaps I should work on that, along with my squats.

Bathing suit blues

The house hunting has been a bit of a downer lately and the heat here in the city has been almost unbearable, so the Beau and I took advantage of an invitation to the cottage and spent the weekend on Georgian Bay.

'Twas heavenly.

We spent the weekend kayaking, swimming, reading, sleeping, eating delicious food, drinking delicious wine and spending time with family (we were with the Beau's parents and sister). It was relaxing, refreshing, rejuvenating - it was just what we needed.

Yet, despite being with family and with the man who loves me, despite being in a sheltered spot with few people around (or at least around in close proximity), despite no one really caring what I look like, I could barely stand to be in my bathing suit. (Yes, the bathing suit I was so excited to have bought.)

I honestly don't know what's wrong with me. Sure, I know where my bathing suit anxiety comes from but that should help me defeat it, rather than continue to fan the flames. Why am I so worried about how I look? Why do I feel the need to constantly adjust, lest a perceived bulge appear in the wrong place? Why do I have to ask the Beau if I look okay?

And, it turns out, both the tankini tops I bought are too big in the torso, at least when I'm in the water. Both of them float around my midsection like an underwater tarp and then cling in folds when I'm out of the water. This isn't a bad thing, really, as it keeps them from being too tight and therefore inducing further flab panic, but it doesn't do much to help me feel better about myself (because now I feel like some dumpy broad in a dumpy suit).

In the past, there have been summers where I've pretty much lived in a bathing suit and I wasn't nearly this anxious. Sure, I was aware of how jiggly I was but I was baby-sitting those summers and too busy running after a kid to really worry. But now I'm just so aware of everything (I perceive to be) wrong with my swimsuit-clad body.

And it's becoming exhausting to despise myself this much, even with my weight loss success and renewed exercise momentum. I guess I have hit a plateau, and I know I have to work to get past it - and I will. But I'd be just fine to not have to wear a bathing suit pretty much ever again.

Clothing as progress

This is a black skirt that I own. I quite like this skirt but I haven't worn it in quite awhile as it's been too tight. However, I tried it on the other day and IT FIT! It was even a little loose! While that was very exciting, let me tell you this: I bought this skirt six years ago for a work Christmas party and when I bought it, it was a bit tighter - and tighter than it is now! So I'm in better shape than I was six years ago! That, my friends, is progress worth celebrating!

"It's what you can do with your body that matters"

These wise words were uttered by the Beau last night, as we lay in bed, lights out, chatting dozily as we drifted off to sleep. Our conversation started far from there; in fact, we were discussing Canadian publishing and how to get people to buy books; which led to discussing branding and marketing and the power of well-known names; which led to the power of the celebrity endorsement (even if the facts aren't there); which led to the power of the internet to provide people with what they want to believe; which led to the idea that, for women, it's about how you look rather than what you can do that seems to be valued.

Which led to "It's what you can do with your body that matters."

Even though we only talked about this last night, I've been thinking about these words all day. I know they're wise and I know this is a maxim that I should live every day. I remember trying to convince myself of this in years past, but I was never able to truly believe it. I always felt that until I'd done something really amazing - like given birth or run a marathon or climbed a mountain or survived a serious illness - that my body hadn't done anything worthwhile and therefore should be skinny because it certainly wasn't useful.

I'm finally realizing just how wrong that kind of thinking is. Of course, doing any of those things listed is an amazing accomplishment, but so is being able to lift 20 lb dumbbells or climb the CN Tower stairs (hey, I did that!) or walk for hours on a beautiful spring day.

And it's also important to realize that your body does many other things that matter, like give big hugs or hold your child (or adorable nephew!) or give a back rub to someone you love or kiss your partner good night.  (Or, ahem, give your kitty head and chin scratchies because she loves them so much.)

But most importantly, your body is you. And you sure as hell matter. That's what's worth remembering.