(ThySistas.com) Anybody who knows me, knows that my body has been through the ringer over the past three years. I have lost weight and gained it. I have given birth…twice. Of course, with age comes its own set of identifiers that let you know you are aging. Certain parts that were perky…just are not anymore. Things that were nice and taught have begun to droop. Other things popped out that had NEVER been there before while others disappeared. Being a woman over the age of 30 used to be the time that you knew the decline was going to begin. I am here to tell you that, yes, all of that happened to me but honestly…I am here for it!
At 30 years old, I finally got the body that I was WISHING for at 18. Sad that it took me going on this long-life journey to get it but who is really counting. I spent the better part of 20 years doing everything I could to get smaller and in shape. I remember the countless nights I sat up with tears in my eyes after looking in the mirror. Nowadays, the mirror and I must be acquainted with each other because I barely look at myself in it. No, not because I do not like what I see but because I do. I know that if I peer into the looking glass long enough those familiar belittling voice in the back of my brain will come back. Those voices plagued me all my life and for once, they have been beat back and silenced.
Over the years, I had to learn to look at my body as thought it was under construction. There were just some parts that were taking longer to build than others. Some parts needed to be polished so they could shine. However, the part that I struggled with was accepting my body as it was. It has been a struggle to not see my body as a problem. It has a few problems, but it is not a problem. I will be honest that I had to look towards other women for encouragement. I had to look at them and say if she can do then why can’t I? This is the mindset that I had to develop when I realized I was being a detriment to myself by not acknowledging that my body is perfect…for me.
I saw a meme once that said, “I ain’t everybody cup of Henn,” and that has never been a truer statement for me. I look at myself like a fine aged bottle of Hennessy. You might not be able to handle the sting of it, but I can take the whole bottle to the head and lick my lips afterward. I had to teach myself that my fupa was not a dreadful thing. I have learned to wear it as a badge of honor as I sweat to tone it. My fupa represents everything that I love and hold dear just at the center of my belly. From this place, I held my children and good meals. From my fupa, I can laugh a hearty laugh to let you know it was real.
I have learned to embrace the sagging and drooping parts because they tend to make noise when I walk that sounds like clapping. I just think of it as my own hype squad when I’m working out. Every stretch mark that I have tells a story so who am I to shut them up.
As I get older, I’m learning to be a bit kinder to myself and recognize that I have all I need wrapped up in this tiny frame. Recalls a line from Shakespeare’s Midnight Summer Dream, “And though she be but little she is fierce.”
Staff Writer; Monika Rambeaux