Women, Food, and Gosh-golly, it's starting to make sence

I decided to read Oprah's latest cure-all for food-junkies: "Women, Food, and God" I am halfway through and after just a few chapters I was able to seriously think about where food fits in my life. I came up with this analogy--food is like the bad boyfriend who I KNOW I should dump, but I take his crap anyway because it feels better to be with someone than face the scary thought of being alone--can you imagine--BY MYSELF. Hey, Hey, readers, I'm not talking about my husband, rather it was a pattern in my younger dating years--before I met my knight in shining scrubs. My analogy still doesn't make sense? Ok. It is much easier to eat a hot batch of Carl's Junior cris-cut fries, when I am not actually hungry, than to deal with the emotions that drove me to eat them. Just like it is easier to stay in a relationship which is not fulfilling than to face the emotions of loss and loneliness that come with saying goodbye. Don't tell me I'm crazy, sooo many women have done this with past boyfriends. And for me the eat-junk-when-not-hungry triggers are usually stress, loneliness, or boredom.

Some of the book is a little "Out there," and talks about "oneness," "deep meditation," but for the most part, I am really enjoying the insights that have popped in my head while reading--my "Aha moments," to use an Oprah phrase. The best of these has to be gratitude. I must be grateful for what I have now and be kind to the person I am now, or I will end up a skinny person with fat emotional wounds. In an effort to be honest on this blog I have spoken of flab, cellulite, particular eating binges, and other eternal sins of a women on a weight-loss program. According to the book, this is called "Shaming myself." While I do want to be more positive, I can't promise that I won't throw in a few silly jabs, and quips about my failures--I am a silly person, and I'd rather laugh at myself than cry. BUT I will be nicer to me because I know that my value as a person is not in my weight. My dearest friend said to me the other day, "I've seen your weight fluctuate over the years, but really, I don't care, because you are a good person, and you are my friend." (Sorry S. if I didn't get it exactly right). So it might sound like I have a wonderful excuse to give up--beauty is on the inside. I'm not giving up. When I drop the emotional weight by believing in and valuing myself, the physical weight follows, because I know I deserve to be healthy.

Just two short posts ago I lamented about bathing suit season, well, I returned those men's board shorts (I forgot men don't have hips). Our little family went to the beach for memorial day and I wore my black one-piece and a knee-length, breezy cover-up. I was holding my daughters hands as the surf washed over her legs while hoisting my cover-up above my knees to allow the water to pass. Not only was the stance awkward, but it was no fun. So we ran back to our towels, I whipped off my cover-up and ran back down to the water with my little girl--white, prickly, mushy, legs and all. I decided if the strangers didn't like what they saw--there were many other places to look, it's the OCEAN. With just my bathing suit, I was able to dance in the water and play Run-away-from-the-waves. I was certainly not a swimsuit model, but I was GREATFUL for my body--without it I could never learn to run another 5K, swim in the ocean with my favorite little person, or glide on the elliptical next to that creepy guy. Half-naked on the beach, I felt free.