The Fat Part

Okay. Thus begins my next blog about the first word in my blog's title- Fat. I say it with mixed feelings. For one, with frustration about why it lingers longer the older you get. Then with a curious joy because it makes people uncomfortable. I guess I tend to be a bit of a rebel, and enjoy rocking the boat- not out of spite, but out of a desire for people to let go and get crazy for the better. Anyway, the fat part.
This morning, I recalled a whole lot of memeories that I needed to conjure up before blogging today. Most of the memories were not pleasant but needed. By the way, this is not an estrogen complaining session about skinny and fat. Nope. Just allowing you to see into my life (all of it) and take whatever you need to help you fly from your nasty nests. So, back to the fat part.....
I went all the way back to as far as I could remember. Of course, I think we all are bombarded with image before birth, but I couldn't go back that far- sorry. Yet, I do recall being called a heifer and big as a house by my mother at the age of 8. I recall waiting for mom to bring home groceries while my siblings and I blessed and split a grape popsicle into thirds becasue it was all we had until the groceries came. Mom was and still is a fantastic lady- times were hard for a little.  Once those groceries came through that door, I remember telling myself that they were OUR Groceries, and no one would take them away. I would not be hungry ever again! Pretty bold statmenet for a child to make. Since being in the military, I've been told to lose 4 pounds in a week, 'have a slim Christmas' because I had to be weighed when I came back from break in two weeks, stand in a line in public to have my body measured to prove that my muscle is more than my fat because I didn't fit the BMI ( body mass index). Oh, that happens at least 3 times a year. Coming up next month. I've had leaders yell at me to run faster up hills to "get thighs my husband will love", threaten to mess with my pay, and follow me in a banquet line while questioning me about what I placed on my plate. I was welcomed to my new unit with a comment that among the first group to be kicked out of the militray during force reduction would be the fatties. They want Solders that are physically fit- of which I am- they just can't get passed the fat part.  Since then, my love/hate releationship with the vicious cycle of diets, food, fat, fitness, and so on has consumed me and even made me anxious for the better half of my life.
Thank God, I'm getting tired of all the BS. I want off this ride, please!!! It's absolutely crazy. Though I will still have to scrape years of layered poop off of my brain and out of my soul, I'm 28, let's get on with it. This does not negate the fact that health will remain in focus. But it does mean that health does not always equal thin. Simple thought but we never let it sink it in. We still chase after the illusive body of a twelve year old. A body that only 3% of women in the world have. A body that, one hundred years ago, would be considered sickly and poor. A body that will Never be me. Truth accepted! Too much time being spent trying to be a body instead of trying to be somebody. That's just unacceptable, Evelyn.
But what about the times I've spent buying into the whole thin thing and keeping it alive? How have I contributed to 'feeding the monster' ? Well, buying magazines that only tell me about how to fix flaws that most of the time never exist, get sexy hair, tighter abs- crap, get some abs! Get this summer look, eat this, don't eat that, bronze yourself- i'm black! Suck in your body with spandex and tighten your face with jelly. What's so sad is that most of us don't even know how to go before God on a Sunday without a painted face and jewelry decor. I challenge you to try it. Oh, and don't try to make up for your loss of paint with a cute outfit either. Plain and Simple. No earrings, no eyeliner, simple hair, simple shoes, simple and comfortable clothes. Just try it. I call it Simple Sunday. As You Are Sunday- or whenever you worship ...or don't. It's merely a challenge to go out into places and around people as yourself. Untouched by any chemical and unadorned by any cloth or metal. Make-up is not wrong, but if you feel like you can't go out of the house without a simple touch of anything, you may want to rock your boat a little. Or, I like this one, we step out of the house without make-up, but look like total slobs. So I guess that no make-up equals slob or working out? What about just being?
Meanwhile, I cannot tell you how many times I've kept the monster of thinpretty alive. That's its name- Thinpretty. So superficial. I love it.
It's a slow and painful death, but Thinpretty is going to sleep with the fish. I want my mind to be engaged and consumed with thoughts about others- not myself. And should I think of myself, my thoughts need not be of criticism or regret of what I just ate. I understand that there are lifestyle changes that must take place for an even healthier mind and body, but the goal is to live. That means no longer being anxious about others seeing me after I've put on 15 pounds, thinking about others more than myself, loving beyond myself, and realizing that I am in the world but not of it. I'm alright...even great.
What cracks me up is this thought that being bikini ready means confidence. I beg to differ on that. I may be a little old school, but that's cool with me. My goodies were only meant for the eyes of my husband. With that being said, showing off your body doesn't mean confidence in the least bit. Who are you showing it off to anyway? Don't get me wrong, we all like attention. But if it's at the expense of exploiting what is sacred, fishing for superficial compliments, or catching the eyes of a lover that is not yours- then I would not call that confidence at all. Call it what you will, but confidence? Nope.
Interestlingly enough, when women suffered and fought for the right to vote, only a year later did we get easily distracted by two old men who invented a little thing called the Miss America pageant. AAAAAHHHHH! That pisses me off!
Does my body need to change shape, size, density, color, texture? That's for my mind to make up. MY MIND! Your body will only do what your mind tells it. Not the other way around. Jesus said that it's not what goes into a man that makes him unclean, but what comes out. Meaning that eventually, whatever you allow into your soul, body, or mind will come out. So you should probably guard your heart, and not give anything and everything the right to come into you without your nod. Reading 100 Cosmo magazines may appear to be harmless, but what will it produce? Fad diets, superficial fixes, and maybe even a brief period of depression. Not worth it.
What have I done to wound and slowly kill Thinpretty? Mute t.v. commercials- use DVR, and skip through the suckers altogether! No more chemical relaxers seeping into my skull in the name of European hair and being afraid of all forms of water- hahaha. Coarse and curly as a honeycomb. Nothing wrong with straight hair, just not using relaxers anymore. Loving the fact that my body is alive, well, and moving. My feet are made to run and share encouragement- not to stand on a scale. My eyes are meant to joyfully weep over the beauty of life- not cry over a pint of ice cream. My hands are meant to lift the heads of the tired- not push away a soul. My mind is meant to foster peace in hopes that I would produce goodness for everyone.
Fat has no part in that. It's such a minute and finite apect of my life that I've given too much attention. I've repented, and know that God's patience towards me has freed me to show you my wounds and battle scars. Hope this helps.