FUCK YOU. I'M REAL TOO.

    I feel like I am being bombarded with messages about healthy body image lately.  I 100% agree that healthy body image is critical to overall health and well-being.  I also 100% agree that the media should be burned at the stake for what they have done to contribute to how women and men see the “ideal” human form.  I know that as a growing young woman I was severely impacted by too much attention focused on my body, and the bodies of those around me.  I agree with all of that. Somehow though, I am starting to feel attacked.  

    It is important to me to be in shape.  Does this mean that I am somehow a bad person, who is acting against the efforts of the people working to bring awareness to body image issues?   The idea that because I have a body close to the “ideal” portrayed by magazines, that I am somehow not portraying “realness” and cannot relate a “real” message is not fair.

     The message I send to every client, friend, family member or co-worker, is that it feels great to feel your best.  I don’t give a shit what your best looks like, but I do know that when you find it – YOU will know it.  I believe that choices contribute to where you end up.  Millions and millions of tiny little choices, that you make day-after-day, shape every aspect of your life.  

     I share my real journey with those I cross paths with.  I am not ashamed of what brought me here, and I would not change any of it.  I really like me, and all my crazy flaws.  I love chocolate.  I’ll eat every last brownie in the pan if someone does not intervene.  I love to work out because it contributes to my health and makes me strong.   I had to get rid of many pairs of jeans because my butt and my thighs got bigger and stronger.   I have a huge ribcage.  I have small boobs.  I am a bitch when I am hungry.  I get severe PMS, that is lessened when I am exercising and eating well.   I’ve had multiple eating disorders throughout my life.  I work to overcome my own vanity daily.  I get scared when I feel the world pulling me toward my destiny – scared I will mess it up.  I’ve dealt with severe acne as an adult and I still struggle with it daily. I keep my hair long because it helps hide my face on days I am not feeling my best.  I have no idea what it actually feels like to be overweight, but I do know exactly what it feels like to hate my body, in little parts, or as a whole.  I know exactly what it feels like to be stared at, made fun of, or judged because my outward appearance is not “ideal” in one way or another.  I have two amazing boys.  I was pregnant and unmarried twice by two different men.  I am divorced.   I’ve been fired.  I am a nicer adult than I was a child.  I fuck up all the time.  I am wrong all the time.  I know how to say I am sorry and I know how to forgive.  I evolve and learn every day.  

     I am real, and I take much offense at the idea that the way I look, the size I am, and the muscles I’ve worked for, make me less real than anyone else.