First, a little history. In high school and college I was one of the obnoxious people who could eat whatever he or she wanted and not gain an ounce. Instead of the standard "Freshman 15" I lost 10 lbs. It wasn't until I had my first child that my metabolism started to take a dive.
A few months ago a friend (whom I will refer to as F, as in F for friend. Very clever, I know.) that I haven't seen in probably 18 years (since college) sent me an email. F was going to be in Atlanta next week and did I want to get together? A week?! I can't lose 50 lbs in a week! My first thought was to decline but instead I took a deep breath, said yes and reminded F that it had been 18 years, 4 kids and 3 c-sections since we had last seen each other. F responded back with understanding and a confession. They too had gained weight and was a little embarrassed. I keep thinking back to that email. Why couldn't we just be excited about seeing each other and catching up? Why was my first feeling panic instead of happiness? Is it an innate thing, being ashamed of your body instead of being proud about the person you are?
I blame it on Barbie. Who's sick idea was it to give young, impressionable girls a doll who has giant boobs, a minuscule waist and legs up to their armpits? If you find them send 'em my way. I'll sit on them.
A few months ago a friend (whom I will refer to as F, as in F for friend. Very clever, I know.) that I haven't seen in probably 18 years (since college) sent me an email. F was going to be in Atlanta next week and did I want to get together? A week?! I can't lose 50 lbs in a week! My first thought was to decline but instead I took a deep breath, said yes and reminded F that it had been 18 years, 4 kids and 3 c-sections since we had last seen each other. F responded back with understanding and a confession. They too had gained weight and was a little embarrassed. I keep thinking back to that email. Why couldn't we just be excited about seeing each other and catching up? Why was my first feeling panic instead of happiness? Is it an innate thing, being ashamed of your body instead of being proud about the person you are?
I blame it on Barbie. Who's sick idea was it to give young, impressionable girls a doll who has giant boobs, a minuscule waist and legs up to their armpits? If you find them send 'em my way. I'll sit on them.
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