I have a menopause-ish pouch that I’ve never had before on my lower abdomen.
I also have an amazing ability to listen to a husband having a bad day, a son who needs to vent, a friend in need, a co-worker in distress or a teenager with problems no one else understands.
I weigh more now than I ever have before without being pregnant.
I can make my family laugh at any given moment and join right in.
I have cellulite and dimples and have to buy wide-calf boots.
I am a wonderful, thoughtful, fun, loving friend.
My arms are bigger than I would like them to be even though I lift weights.
I am stronger than most women, and some men, I know. Mentally and physically.
I have the metabolism of a post-menopausal woman who doesn’t move much.
I work out almost every day, listening to music I love, moving because it makes me feel good, healthy and strong.
I have laugh lines and crow’s feet and the beginning of those annoying little lines between my eyebrows and around my mouth.
I’ve been successfully raising my three kids, one of whom has significant special needs, with great love for the past 17 years. And killing it most days, I might add.
I have to go to the back of the rack to find my size of pants and shirts now instead of towards the front like I used to.
I have been through my parents’ divorces, a miscarriage, diagnosis of my firstborn with 5p- syndrome and cancer. And managed not to become bitter and still have a smile on my face.
I don’t feel comfortable in a bikini anymore.
I can love and teach 150 14-year-olds each year like nobody’s business.
I am more than a number on the scale.
I am more than the size label inside my jeans.
I am more than wrinkles on my face.
I am more than my body.
I am me. My body shape and size doesn’t matter one bit in the grand scheme of who I am and what I offer to the world. I am SO much more than that.
And so are you. I hope you needed this today too and it helped you.
SO FUCKING WHAT, am I right??