My BFF came up with a really fun gratitude practice. We go through the alphabet and every day is a letter. So for 26 days, it’s kinda easy and fun. Today was Z and I had trouble coming up with anything, but tomorrow’s A and that should be easy. Z. I’m grateful for the letter Z because it means I have the day off and I can tell you what I’m pissed about instead of being grateful. [logical transition drumroll…]
Well great. So now we don’t have to be anorexic to have an ideal body. Muscles are good. Big butts are in. Woo hoo.
My entire fucking life has been determined by the size of my belly on any given day. I’ve woken up every morning for the past 45 years and looked at myself sideways in the mirror to observe my bulge. I’ve done millions, by now, of sit-ups to keep my stomach muscles tight. My self-worth every day depends on the flatness of my stomach and the number on my scale first thing in the morning before I put a morsel of food in my mouth.
I’ve learned to live with it, it’s okay. I realize I’ll never be completely healthy about this.
But goddamnit, no matter what the ideal body image is in this society, the stomach is never an asset. When we were supposed to be stick thin, our clothes hanging off of us, it was the girls with the big butts who were upset. Now, lucky them, they get to have the big butt, but still no waistline. No belly. No love handles.
Can we work towards a new change in standards please? Can we bring the belly into favor? We are women for christ’s sake. We have bellies!!!
(Sunday very non-spiritual rant from a pissed off, hungry woman.)