The Trouble With Emus

Even though I’m currently fat, I don’t hate my body. I know that seems like a strange thing to say. Society/the media/whoever you want to blame teaches us that as a fat person, you’re supposed to automatically hate your body.  I don’t hate my body, I just don’t like the way it looks right now. Case in point: When I got in the shower this morning, I caught a glimpse of my upper arms in the bathroom mirror. This usually makes me have one of two reactions:

A) “Dude, remember – sleeveless anything is not your friend right now, ‘kay?”

B) “Ugh. Cafeteria lady arms”.

Today, I had a different, slightly more negative reaction:

C) “Wow. I practically have bat lady wings at this point. It’d be nice if I could fly”. (Then my inner dialogue scolded my inner critic for being so negative).

There aren’t that many things I am aesthetically unhappy with when it comes to being overweight, but my arms are definitely one of them. I will also do pretty much anything to avoid being in photos . You’d better believe that I will run if someone tries to take a photo of me in profile. Hell To The No. (Really, who wants another photo of a fat person? Haven’t our kind been documented enough for science and Facebook?)

Sometimes I feel like one of those flightless birds. Emu, ostrich, penguin – take your pick.  As a stand alone creation my body is pretty damn amazing, I just wish I could be and do more with my physical self. I do occasionally look in the bathroom mirror and despair momentarily that I don’t have super-fit lady arms or that my side profile isn’t ideal. However, I am lucky that I have the capacity to be even more amazing. The fact that I can’t (metaphorically) fly yet doesn’t get me down. It just keeps me focused on all the awesome new things I’ll be able to do once I get to my goal. I can’t wait to see how much more amazing it will be when I am at a healthy weight.

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