Being comfortable in your own skin. This was a topic that a friend of mine encouraged me to write about last week (two weeks ago? I don't know. My days are blurring together). I want to be able to write that everyone should just find the beauty in the thigh dimples, the wrinkles, and the love handles. I want to write that you shouldn't care about anything and you should just be you and that's beautiful enough. That's comfortable enough. But I can't. Because I don't live that life everyday. Because sometimes, that shit sucks! Some days, I'm okay with cellulite on my thigh and a sometimes muffin top. Other days, I'm not. Most days, I'm totally okay that I'm halfway to 30. Other days I have a panic attack about it. Some nights, I put on my little black dress and nobody can tell me I'm not gawwwwwgeous. Other nights, I put it on and think, "nah. Let me stay in and wear my sweatpants, this dress is doing nothing for me." I have bad hair days. I have bad face days. I have days where nothing fits. I have days where everything fits, I just hate the way it looks. I have days when slipping into the right pair of Chucks makes me feel beautiful. Some days I'm Ariel, other days I'm Ursula. Most days I just feel like I don't fit into anyone's standard of beauty. But Dita Von Teese said once, that "you can be the ripest, juiciest peach in the world and there's still going to be someone that hates peaches."
I think that since I started this journey to being a healthier person, it's helped me realize that I may not like everything about my body. What I like and don't like will change day to week to month. But this journey has helped me take hold of those things and embrace them. To feel comfortable with the little things. To impress myself with the ordinary and astound myself with the extraordinary. I can toss a 65 pound kid over my head. I can carry all my groceries into the house--at one time. I may not be able to find jeans that fit my ass, but I can fill out a bodycon dress with my lovely lady lumps. I have discovered a new line of workwear called: gym clothing chic. I realized that I'm funny. I have good friends that get me. I'm smart. And pretty nerdy. And that's kind of cool, too. I have flaws--and I can accept them (finally!) Yeah, they're there. But affirming all the good qualities I have makes the bad ones not so glaring and I'm learning that I don't have to hide them. They are what they are and I am who I am. And maybe that's the key to being comfortable: is finding a way to not be uncomfortable. After all, this is your body. It's the only one you get and you're in it for kind of a long time. Better get used to it. The world will try to tell you to be self-conscious. To worry about the "rules" of beauty and to be the perfect model of whatever everyone thinks beauty is. But people who follow rules are quickly forgotten...but those who break the rules, those are the people we remember.
Be a rule-breaker. Wear white after labor day. Be your own beautiful. Be remembered as a person who was unapologetically comfortable in their own skin and if you don't like something, change it for y-o-u.