Once upon a time, I was the self assured young woman who declared that I would age gracefully, not mind the wrinkles that would mark my worldly experience, not dye my grey hairs. But then something happened. I got older. And I got fat.
I always objected to fatism. I could find loveliness in fatness. I admired curvy beauties with the confidence to sing or act and not demonstrate the need to adhere to society's slim ideal.
The combination of anxiety, depression, medication, lack of exercise, lack of sleep and a new financial position that resulted in more lunches out, more coffee and more takeaways was a recipe for disaster weight wise.
My self esteem plummeted, and I found myself out to be a complete hypocrite when it came to my own feelings about appearance. I started a major program of compensation for the fact that I now wore tunics and leggings. I might have no waist, but I also was not going to have straggly eyebrows or a lady moustache. I primped, preened, dyed, plucked and painted what I could. But I still look in the mirror and see ugly.
I know in my mind that this perception is wrong. My own thoughts on my appearance or personality are not necessarily true.
As a new year approaches, I always think of it as a time of reflection and thinking ahead. There are lots of great things happening in 2013, none of which requires me to be skinny and pretty. Perhaps my first resolution should be to stop being so damned self absorbed. I have had a year of wallowing self indulgence - now it's time to find more of a balance between enough self care so as to maintain a certain level of tidiness in my appearance and physical fitness, but also think about figuring out the difference between that, and pandering to my own negative self talk.
As the new year unfolds, I'll share how I get on!
