See this picture?
What do you see when you look at it? (Besides Sean looking all sorts of sexy, of course)
All I see are thighs. and a bubble butt. and a big ole floppy arm. Ugh.
I ended the last post of 2010 with the revelation that I had learned to love myself more this past year, something I truly believed when I wrote it. But just 2 days later, as I'm shredding myself to pieces over ONE stupid picture, I realize maybe I haven't come as far as I thought.
For me yesterday, 2011 arrived on my doorstep wrapped up in the disguise of a horrible hangover with a firm dose of self-loathing. Our friends hosted this incredible party for the New Year, complete with bartenders, servers, and a professional photographer. I had the absolute time of my life dancing with my friends, lighting sparklers at midnight, and drinking copious amounts of champagne.
and yet, instead of spending the first day of this New Year reveling in the amazingness of my life and the blessings it has given me, I scrutinized a picture. breaking it down. breaking the girl inside the picture down, until she was nothing but body parts. Her wobbly thighs. A flabby arm.
It wasn't until this morning, after a night of tossing and turning and feeling unsettled, that I noticed another very important body part I overlooked yesterday. Her smile.
I was genuinely happy when that picture was taken. I felt fantastic, in fact. So why did I let that feeling slip away when the photo came back? It's a downright shame that instead of blaming the bad photo on poor lighting or a wonky angle, I instantly blame it on myself. My first thought was to curse those thighs. The ones I've spent years cursing, every time I looked in a mirror, or tried on skinny jeans, or was referred to as "pear shaped". In my mind, I was instantly transported back to the days when I weighed 40lbs more than I do now, to a time when I felt unconfident and insecure. A time when I was incredibly lazy and thought exercising was getting up to change the channel on the TV.
But I'm not that girl. and it's not those days anymore. I needed to slap myself back into the realm of logic and reality this morning. I reminded myself, those legs took me on a 15 mile run last week. Those thighs allowed me to do some of the best skiing I've ever done, making jumps and turns I was never able to do in the past. They are not wobbly. They are strong. They are powerful.
Most importantly, they are mine.
For better or worse, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, this body and I are married to each other. And certainly no one wants to have a loveless marriage, so I need to get my attitude straight before it's too late. Or else I'll come home one evening to find my body's watching reruns of Dr. Phil and binge eating Cheetos while wearing 3 day old sweatpants just to hide the resentment. and trust me, nobody wants that!
So I am doing this whole New Year, it's 2011, wahoo! thing all over again today. Except this time, I am going to do it right. I will celebrate the blessings I have in my life and all the good things still yet to come, because if Lindsay Lohan can be released from rehab for the 900th time in a row, then it's definitely true what they say: everything and everyone gets a second chance in life.
A special thank you to these two dashingly handsome gentlemen for throwing the best NYE party I've ever been too, letting us cover their house in confetti, and feeding me left over appetizers and Bravo TV until 4pm yesterday. You are the best! (Double secret thank you to Vassili for taking the time to weave through 1600 photos to find the ones of me. He knows I'm a dirty, shameless, blog whore who needed to get them out in a timely manner! He also made the video at the bottom! )
I know I'm a day late, but since it's my redo day, I want to wish a Happy 2011 to you! Here's to a year full of health, wealth, and happiness!
With love, Marie and her thighs (and Sean, too!)