Maybe you'll never "love your body" (and that's OK)

Monday, I admitted to a major meltdown. I joked (or bitched) about being kitchen-less before a beach vacation. The subtext was that I like to clean things up with my diet before the whole bathing suit situation. That same day, a colleague’s Instagram post caught my eye. I should preface this by saying this person is awesome. I had the pleasure of meeting her during our recent California/Expo West trip and she’s funny and smart and none of what I’m writing is about her…just about something she wrote.

Let me set this up:

The photo I referred to shows this nutritionist in a jog bra. What’s interesting was her commentary on showing your stomach. The stated intent was to show her followers she understood this was a thing (showing your stomach).

I’ll stop for a minute and say while abs may be the ultimate reveal, many women don’t like “showing” in general. It could be insecurity about a certain body part (arms, thighs or abs are common) and it’s also possible it stems from personal preference. In my case, I have way more A-line items in my closet than body hugging ones.  And if I’m being totally honest my Instagram feed is never going to be filled with photos of me especially not sexy photos. And this is not a judgement about people who have  a ton of selfies (OK minor judgement).

The RD I referred to explains she loves her body and is unfazed by bathing suiting but didn’t always feel that way. In her effort to diffuse body anxiety she assures readers “it gets better with age, you will evolve, mature…three will come a day where you don’t care if you ate pizza the night before you get into a bathing suit.”

I think things struck a chord as I had just articulated my pre-beach mindset. I am over a decade older than this person;  I think I've evolved and matured but wearing a bathing suit isn’t "thoughtless" to me. From counseling clients all these years, I know that sometimes body stuff fades with age, we can laugh at it more, be more accepting. Other times, with aging bodies, previously body confident women (or men) get more self critical.  I watched an episode of The View yesterday and the gorgeous, ageless, super fit J-Lo saw a photo of herself and uttered, “I was chubby there.” They gave her major shit for that comment but it came out.

I wholeheartedly agree with the author of the post that we need to be kind to ourselves. But I want to point out that it’s not a failing if you’re 30, 40, 50, 60, 70 or 80 (I have an 80-something client who is very mature and still pinches her body fat and grimaces) and think about being in a bathing suit or wouldn’t rate your body a 10 on a 1-10 scale…it may just be who you are. I can say I’m a thin person, I like who I am and there are many days I feel great in my clothes. But I will note when I feel distended in the same way I’ll watch a clip for work and think about things I could’ve done better. Maybe self-acceptance comes in all different flavors.

What do you think about this? Are you more the happy naked flavor or semi-sweet on the whole thing?  Do you think it's ok not to love your body (by this I mean be 100% in love with every part)? 

*I love that my body works and every time I go for a walk or a run thank God I am capable of this...that's not what I'm referring to.

I freaked out majorly: warning 1st world problem

I haven’t written in a bit but I have a good reason. I was in food shock. It started a few weeks ago. We decided- I should say I decided to replace our cracked kitchen tile and countertops. My husband gave me the “is this really necessary?” line.  The truth is that his kitchen experience amounts to occasional coffee making, gluten free beer opening and table clearing when he’s in a helpful mood. I could’ve wasted my time pointing out that the kitchen to me was the equivalent of the golf course for him but I had a more productive idea. I selected the countertop material  (Caesar stone) and flooring (light wood planks). I presented my husband with two samples of each that were basically the same so he could “choose” and put him in touch with the kitchen guy. Our division of labor for any renovation is design- me and construction- him. This proved to be a mistake.

Two weeks ago today, the boys had started spring break and I was enjoying not having to be out of the house at 7:30AM. The doorbell rang and I answered it in my pajamas. There were five men with tools standing outside with the head honcho kitchen guy. I had been told the kitchen work would be done while we were away. As I stood in the doorway, Marc emerged freshly showered and smiled at the guys “that’s great that you’re getting an early start.” And the unraveling began. I guarantee these nice men will tell the story of the crazy upper west side lady for years to come.

“You told me this was happening when we were away”

  He said

“I thought it was a good idea for them to start before we left in case there were questions.”

While that’s totally logical in retrospect I said

“It’s a good idea for you but what about me, I am supposed to eat days of take-out food right before a vacation?”

And he said

“I think having a new kitchen is worth a few days of non-organic food.”

It went downhill from there and I decided to go get dressed and calm down.

When I came downstairs, four men were carrying my fridge into the dining room.

The fridge was unplugged. The fridge with a freezer full of grass fed meat and wild salmon, the fridge with my kombuchas and organic berries.

And while I now know I must’ve sounded like a spoiled baby, I freaked.  Mid fit the kitchen guy plugged the fridge into a dining room outlet. The light went back on and I started to breathe.

I will never admit this to my husband but I kind of liked running out to Juice Generation to get smoothies breakfast for all of us and a few newspapers. Having no kitchen meant no pillaging for dark chocolate. And we plugged the coffee maker in the home office and it was fine.

This past Friday, the men were putting the kitchen sink in and the kitchen guy said “was it worth it?” and, with my tail between my legs, I apologized knowing that nothing I cold say would erase my crazy. It was totally worth it.  The problem is that now I don’t want to cook and mess any of the newness up.