Eat A Sandwich

I have fought writing this for months.  Considering my last post was a few months ago and it was on the topic of excuses as to why I don't look like a fitness model, I really didn't want to write another post on body image.  Unfortunately, I can't seem to escape it.

There's a new term hanging around these days.  You may have heard it in the media.

Shaming.

Fat.
Skinny.
Slut.
Parent.
Kids.
Bullies.
Pets.

The list goes on and on.  People are not only using the mainstream media to shame others or outcry against shaming but they're taking to social media.  Parents post images of their kids after they pooped in the crib (because Junior will really appreciate that being brought up at his job interview in 20 years).  Pets are holding signs declaring that they tore up the living room.  Teenagers are holding signs saying they stole money from mom's purse (also, great interview material).  Trolls scan images of girls in half dress or girls who are not the ideal societal body type and rip them to shreds.

She's tall and thin.  The angle the photo was taken makes her appear even taller.  It wasn't Health's use of this woman as a model for an article titled, "Walk off 10 pounds in 3 weeks with this routine" that I found appalling (that was just poor planning on the part of social media director), it was the comments found below the picture that made me sick.

How about put on 20 pounds. She looks like a piece of rope.

Anorexia nervosa

Excessive use of Photoshop.

Looks like she walked off her ass

She needs to walk herself to the donut shop and find herself ten pounds to put on...

That girl is way too skinny

This girl looks ill

This chick needs a cheeseburger, plain and simple.

Not attractive, not what you want to crawl up to in bed. Those boney limbs poking you would hurt. Cheeseburger, fries, shake and cake. I'm surprised she has enough strength to walk. My biggest fear is that something would break during sex!

The last comment was my personal favorite.  Wonder if my husband feels that way?  To be fair, I've walked around my whole life and I've never broken anything.  And if this guy delivers, I'll be happy to take a cheeseburger, fries and a shake.

Do you know how many times I've heard these exact same things?  As a matter of fact, I stopped wearing all forms of skirts, dresses and shorts in middle school because I was tired of hearing the term "chicken legs" and I didn't start wearing them again until long after I graduated high school  I was tormented by everyone for having a "flat chest" and I rarely wore sleeveless shirts because of the "toothpicks" I had for arms.  This isn't a blog about how terribly I was bullied, because adolescence just sucks and everyone is teased about something.  This is moreso how we treat one another based on ideals conditioned by society because to this day I still get comments about how skinny I am.  

For some reason, it's okay to shame a skinny girl because she's skinny.  It's okay to poke fun at stereotypes like the one where we somehow "forget to eat," is a skinny person problem.  Oh, we're so funny because we're anorexic.  Haha.

Stop telling us to eat a sandwich.  Stop telling us that we need to put on a few pounds.  We can't.  My husband can tell you that a few years ago I tried to gain muscle mass.  Protein powders, heavy protein meals, supplements, work outs...nothing worked.

Also, don't assume that a skinny girl has an eating disorder unless you see without a doubt that she has symptoms of one (and contrary to popular belief, it's not a "lucky" disorder to have).  Here's a list you should check if you think someone is struggling:

http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/anorexia/basics/symptoms/con-20033002

http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/bulimia/basics/symptoms/con-20033050

On the other hand, it is not okay to tell someone they need to lose a few pounds or to tell them they need to eat less.

Having any kind of comment to make about someone else's body, a generalized meme to post on social media, a comment on the way someone looks or dresses is not appropriate unless it is a compliment, and no, I don't consider remarks about how skinny I am to be a compliment.

Each one of these women are beautiful.  They all weigh the same.  They all carry it differently.  All that matters is that they are healthy.  No social standard of beauty should dampen that.  Body image is hard enough in the battlefields of our own minds, none of us need anyone else adding fuel to the flames of warfare.  Granted, there are times when unhealthy habits will need to be addressed but there's a difference between concern and being a flat out jerk.  Sometimes it's a fine line but if you have to start the comment with "He/She looks like" and there's something unflattering attached to the end of the comment then it's best left unsaid.

What about you?  Do you have an insecurity that others seem to comment on?  Are you guilty of picking on someone because of the way they look?

Be a change agent.

Oh, and leave Junior's unsavory moments off Facebook.  His future depends on it.

Excuses, excuses

So, I'm late to the party on this one:

Let me just point out, I look nothing like Maria Kang.  I'm thin, yes, but I'm not a fitness model or a wellness coach.  I don't have three kids under the age of three.  That's pure insanity and kudos to those who can manage.  Odds are this woman was in fantastic shape prior to getting pregnant and during her pregnancy.  You don't just pop into the gym with an 8 month old, much less two other small children, and manage to look like this.  But I digress.

What's my excuse?

Well, I don't have one.

I have reasons.  Three really good reasons that fill up my newsfeed or Instagram account on a daily basis.  Three really pretty reasons, if I do say so myself.  I also have a small business and a church that I give some time to.  Up until last semester, I was also in school part time.  By the time I lay my head on my pillow, around midnight usually, my day has been filled with projects, clients, homework, cooking, cleaning and diapers.  And I love it.  That's my life.  That's my reason.

She's recently been under fire again with a new picture and a new "no excuse" campaign.  She's attempting to be "inspirational" and not understanding that her priorities don't equate to everyone else's priorities and that's really what this is all about.  She.  Just.  Doesn't.  Get.  It.

You can read the entire article here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/03/07/maria-kang-photo-excuse_n_4918766.html.

I go for gusto in everything I do.  To look like this I would have to spend a few hours a week in a gym.  That means something in my life would slip.  I'm not willing to give up that time with my family or my business or my church to make sure I'm a "hot mom."  Sister, we aren't all built to be "strong, not skinny."  These images and this "campaign" is unintentionally shaming people into thinking we don't do enough when the truth of the matter is that we all do too much.

In the article she says that to raise a healthy child you must be a  healthy parent.  Well, duh.  But healthy isn't all about the body.  My daughter doesn't need to see me pose in my short shorts and my sports bra to get the idea that eating right and staying active is healthy.  She needs to see me live a life of faith.  She needs to see me take care of her and interact with others in a positive way.

If these images motivate you then by all means use them!!!  If they don't, then don't.  My problem is this: these things have a way of burying themselves in your subconscious.  They pop up when you're doing something as insignificant as putting on your jeans that you don't wear like you did before the last kid.  Let's think about the definition of health and the definition of excuse.  Put these two things in perspective before attempting to "motivate" the world by insinuating that we're all a bunch of fat losers if we don't look like you.

Bitter?  No.  Irritated?  Yes.

My life is not her life.  My path is not her path.  My family is not her family.  I look the way I look and live the way I live because I want it that way.  No excuse to be found.

But you're just a girl

This morning I cracked my Bible for the first time in 2014.  Every morning, while the boy naps, I open the pages of this book.  There are times when the hustle and bustle of out the scheduled norm takes me away from digging into scripture but I usually find my way back once routine returns.  The funny thing is that the older I get the more focused I am in finding insights and sharing my thoughts on what I read.

Right now, I'm following the study on www.SheReadsTruth.com.  The fabulous thing about it is that even if you only have a few minutes a day the scripture and accompanying discussion is powerful.  It really maximizes your time with God.  I typically have about 30 minutes to an hour during nap time but some days, as toddlers do, he decides that sleeping just isn't on his agenda.

So, the current series is on new beginnings.  What better place to start than creation, right?  Something struck me this morning during my reading, Adam's declaration in Genesis 2:23.

"And Adam said:

This is now bone of my bones

Flesh of my flesh;

She shall be called Woman,

Because she was taken out of Man."

My first thought, "Awww, the first love poem..."  Then I started to wonder about what it actually means to be a woman in Biblical terms and began digging into the commentary at the bottom of my Bible.  What I found there struck me with a profound sense of satisfaction.  

See, I've always felt like people look at me like I'm not capable of specific things because I'm petite with blond hair and blue eyes.  I'm somehow fragile or weak or less intelligent because of the way that I look.  But God says no.  No to the idea that a woman is somehow less than a man.  No to the idea that she isn't capable of being as intelligent or weak simply because she can't bench press a couple hundred pounds of iron or open a jar of pickles.  I'll have you know that I open my fair share of jars in this house.

Earlier in chapter 2, God says that he wants Adam to have a "comparable helper."  I can see all the feminists getting hot under the collar.  Hold up.  The term "helper" is not negative in any way.  In fact, God is also referred to as a help in a time of need (Psalm 33:20) and most of us know that God is the biggest, baddest helper of them all.   Women were not created to be secondary to man like some leftover afterthought but to be a companion to man; hence, the rib.  Women are created to be a just right fit with man.

The truly spectacular thing is Adam's reaction to Eve when she is presented to him.  His love poem extols that she is just like him but different.  This intrigues and astounds him.  She is intelligent, not like any other creature he had seen on the earth.  He gave her the name Woman, which is just like his name but different.  A perfect and suitable match to him.  He is completely enamored with her.

Martin Luther said it best, "God might have taken a bone from a toe and thus signified that Adam was to rule over her; or He might have taken a bone from his head to indicate her rule over him.  But by taking a bone from his side, God implied equality and mutual respect."

The Fall brought a much more pronounced difference between the sexes but I will contend until my dying breath that we are all equal.  We are all worthy of respect without limitation to our ability.

As a side note, I am snacking on an apple as I write.  Coincidence?

Crack That Book Open

I met a woman this afternoon who had no front teeth.  When she saw my baby boy she smiled.  He looked at her confused wondering where her teeth were.  People like her carry a stigma: she must be poor if she can't get that fixed, she's probably a drug addict, she must be slow.  The story of a hard life was written all over her face but her smile sealed the stereotype of  a poor, drug addict working a part time job at the grocery store because she wasn't very bright.

The truth is something that most people don't really want to hear.  Her teeth had been knocked out by a former significant other.  "He took my teeth," were her words.  She was working at the grocery store because she wasn't allowed to think of herself as anything other than his punching bag so now this was all she was capable of doing.  Thankfully, a shelter had taken her in and saved her from this man, but the rest of the damage had been done.  My heart broke.

Society doesn't afford people who have had a rough go to be anything more than a loser.  We treat these people who need more love than others as a burden; someone to gawk at and presume we know their situation.  I know the despair this woman endured.  It's a pain and a fear that no person should ever encounter.  The person you sleep next to, the one who made a vow to protect you, is actually responsible for torturing you on a regular basis and may one day kill you.  If you are lucky enough to escape with your life then you must deal with the psychological damage.  You collapse at the thought of conflict and the walls close in if the exit of any room is blocked.  Some nights you wake up in a cold sweat with tears streaming down your face because he's entered your dreams.  I know that fear.  I was lucky.

It all sounds like a Lifetime movie, I know, but this stuff really does happen.  Relationships never start out violent.  It's always really good in the beginning until there's an argument that gets just a little too heated.  Then the next time it goes a little further.  Two or three years down the road you start to realize that you never wear things you want to because they've been deemed inappropriate, you don't participate in activities because you don't want the third degree on where you've been and every time there is a conflict there's another hole in the wall where it met the back of your head.  You're too ashamed to admit that you're battered.  You're Jennie Garth in Lies Of The Heart or Judith Light in one of the fifty movies she's done on the subject.

My new sister who survived the struggle is not just another stereotype.  She is hope.  Hope that there is life on the other side of a terrible situation.  Hope that even after such trauma there is still a reason to smile.  If you bother to open the tattered and weathered cover of her story you can see that she is strong.  She is beautiful.

Some of us have a support system praying and waiting for us to make the decision to get out.  A lot of us do not.  For those who don't there is help: http://www.bayareaturningpoint.org/

Stick it in your ear

I realized today that during the course of my lifetime I have taken a lot of crap off of people. I didn't start out this way but eventually I grew complacent and non-confrontational. I still attempt to pick my battles wisely and I chalk a lot of behavior up to people's motivation and past but it's gotten to the point that I've had enough.

Choosing to be happy is not selfishness. Making decisions based on what makes me happy is healthy. However, some people make life decisions based on what someone else says they should do, what would make someone else happy and claim that others are selfish for not making them the priority. Now, I ask you, does that even make sense? The answer for the slow kids in the class would be NO!

I went the opposite direction. I made bad decisions based on the fact that it would open a door for escape and really miff some people. But now I say forget that mess! My decisions now are based solely on what is best for my health, happiness and well-being because if I'm happy I have a solid basis to raise my daughter as a happy and productive member of society. That is my ultimate goal.

Love is never truly understood until it is spoken in our language and God places those certain people in our lives to show us through them how much He loves us. My angel speaks it to me on a daily basis, with slobbery kisses and a tiny head lock. She provides endless hours of entertainment and amusement. My fiance shows me what love is by going out of his way to ensure my happiness. He is my sounding board, my support and my comfort.

This is my life and these are my decisions. Deal with it or take your toxicity elsewhere. I am unbelievably blessed and quite frankly, I don't care who likes it or doesn't. I didn't know it could be this good.

Chivalry is dead

There was a nice little shower today at quitting time. Yes. God waits until I have to drive home to unleash holy terror in the form of water from the heavens, i.e. rain. But Kim and I are standing under the awning at work just looking at the rain when a male co-worker (who shall remain nameless) comes outside. He watches Kim and I run through the rain to our cars. I am now sitting in the driver’s seat soaking wet and my cell phone begins to ring. It’s Kim, who has made it to her car, albeit with wet cleavage (thank you, Kim, for feeling the need to share), telling me to turn around and have a look. What I see is rather irritating and only proves that society is going to hell in a hand basket. This male co-worker who has just watched us run through the rain has busted out an umbrella and is strolling casually to his car. And they say chivalry is dead. . .

There was, once upon a time, this courtesy that men showed women. I guess it all died with women’s lib. I suppose I have a very traditional view of the roles that men and women play. There are obviously differences between the sexes. While I am mentally capable of handling any job a man can, there are some things that I am not physically able to accomplish. We are all entitled the same rights and levels of respect, but let‘s face it, we have different things to offer.

Upon entering the dating world, I have seen a lot of this first hand. Usually the ones worth keeping still have these common courtesies still in tact. In other words, they‘ve been raised right. Those who don’t. . .well let’s just say that their rears met the curb. If you can’t begin a relationship with the small stuff, then the big stuff is going to be even more of a hindrance. Ultimately, all good relationships, romantic or otherwise, start with at least a tiny bit of common courtesy. Here’s an idea: next time you see someone who will get drenched by a monsoon and you have an umbrella, offer to walk them to their car. It’s a tiny deposit into the bank of respect that will go a long way. I know, that was cheesy, but true.