I’m not sure what happened lately but it seems as though my brain has finally flipped the switch. I’m done fighting with myself. I’ve tapped out. And you want to know something? It feels damn good.
I feel as though, ever since I can remember, I’ve been fighting with myself to be something I’m not. I’ve gone from starving myself, to exercising 8 hours a day and barely eating, to counting every single calorie and protein gram and fat gram and exercising more than is necessary, and always, always, always worrying about everything that goes in my mouth every second of every day. I would spend hours looking at my stomach, my legs, my back, my butt. I would use mirrors so I could see all angles. I would weigh myself daily, hourly and that number would determine what kind of day I would have. I would think about what I just ate, what I will eat, what I should have eaten, how I can do better tomorrow. I would wish and wish that I was tiny and short and petite and small. Or taller and skinnier like a model. I’m done with that. I am done with feeling bad for the way I look and fighting with myself over it. I workout, I eat healthy and this is what I look like. I have breasts, I have hips, I have a little extra around the middle and I look just fine. That has to be enough. It’s not just commentary this time, I mean it. I feel it in every fiber of my being that I am done with this nonsense. There are days when I have to work at it more than others, but I’m noticing that I’m spending less and less and, some days no, time on it.
I feel as though, ever since I can remember, I’ve been fighting myself with the way I look. Growing up everyone thought I was a boy or commented that I was a “big girl” or asked what was that all over my face. All the time. Every day. I never felt beautiful or attractive in any way, shape or form. Ever. I would spend hours looking in the mirror wishing that I looked more feminine, that my teeth were straighter and whiter, that my hair was shiny and full of body, that my acne would please-oh-please finally go away. I hated what I saw when I looked in the mirror. Hated it. Even when I grew up and all of that changed, I still didn’t like what I saw. I couldn’t see what others saw. I still have to work at this one more than I would like, but I’m getting there. This is my face. This is my hair. This is what I look like. I can’t change it and, in fact, I don’t want to change it. This is who I am. I’m done.
I am done with worrying about what other people think of me, done with being nice because I feel like I have to, feeling guilty over things I can’t change or how I feel. I don’t care anymore if the cashier was rude and I let her know that it wasn’t ok. I am done worrying about if that woman at school likes me or not. I don’t care if people think I’m funny or dorky or talk too much or too little or the million other things that used to go through my head. I’m done seeing Heidi Klum on a talk show and thinking that’s what I should be. Or Jennifer Garner. Or the gorgeous Mom at the PTA meeting. Or the beautiful woman at the park. I’m me and that’s just fine.
Like I said, a switch flipped somewhere. I look around me now and I see all of the miraculous blessings I have and I can’t believe this is my life. I’m done wasting it worrying about all of this nonsense that isn’t true and isn’t helpful and isn’t good for me. Instead I should be feeling good about who I am and what I have. I will look around me and see all of the wonder instead of all the things that I “should” fix.
I’m Tiffany. I am 5 feet 8 inches tall. I am curvy. I have a pixie haircut with bright red highlights and awesome green eyes. My smile is real and I share it often with those I love. I love simple, classic clothes, Buckle jeans and Converse tennis shoes. I wear necklaces and bracelets but rarely earrings. I love to exercise. I love to cook and I love to eat. I can’t resist cheesecake. I will order a burger while you’re ordering a salad with the dressing on the side. I love to read for hours on end, to blog, to listen to music, especially Pink. My husband and I have an unusually good marriage but, damn, we work hard at it. My children are amazing and kind and loving and caring and thoughtful and just all around damn good kids. My Mom is my rock. My best friend is my friend soul mate. I tell people I love that I love them. I still kiss and hug my Mom every time I see her. My best friend too. I make sure that everyone around me knows that they’re loved. I am a teacher, I am a mother, I am a sister, I am a wife, I am a friend. I am me and I am just fine.