wasting too much time on my waist
The other day I was out for a walk with my husband, discussing plans and layout ideas for our barn. I was midsentence when I noticed it. My husband has gray hair. Not a lot, just a few silver strands mixed in with his long beard and sideburns. But my husband definitely has gray hair.
Don’t get me wrong, he wears it well. Very well actually. So, it’s not like I was disappointed or grossed out by it. But I was disappointed with myself for just now seeing them. I was disappointed that I didn’t notice the very first hair. I felt like I was missing out on one of the biggest and most important parts of marriage, the whole getting old together part.
Now I know folks will tell you that they aged overnight. They swear they went to bed one night with a whole head of hair and two working knees, then woke up bald and thirty pounds heavier.
But I didn’t think that that was the deal here. I had a feeling the problem was I just hadn’t been paying attention.
This only became more apparent as the week went on and I started to notice all kinds of things that seemed to age overnight. I watched my “puppy”, who is, in fact, a five-year-old dog, struggle multiple times to jump up on the bed that she was easily clearing…when? Earlier this year? One of the toddlers I used to take care of when I was working at a daycare in high school, bagged my groceries for me while telling me all the colleges he was applying for. I was getting ready for my 30th birthday party and saw that my own crow’s feet and worry lines are quite a bit deeper than they were…when? Last year, or maybe the year before?
But the real eye-opener was when I looked at my mileage while driving home and realized that my “new” car has over 145,000 miles on it. I could have sworn I hadn’t made it over 100,000 yet. I remember wanting to notice when I hit 100,000 miles, but still managed to miss it.
All these small realizations started to pile up and force me to open my eyes to the reality of my situation.
I haven’t been paying attention.
I pulled my not so new car over and screamed.
I was not even two days into being thirty and felt like I had been asleep for years. I couldn’t believe that I had managed to put in so many miles and yet make it nowhere.
I asked myself what in the hell have I been doing that was so important I managed to miss so many little (and some big) things.
And then the floodgates opened…
Oh, that’s right, I’ve been busy! Busy dieting. Busy either creating or nursing a hangover. Busy reading books on how to be happy instead of just being happy. Busy binging on cashews and Greys Anatomy reruns. Busy living and beating myself up in my head all day. Always so fucking busy.
Just like in the movies, my life flashed before my eyes. I remembered all the opportunities I skipped because I was ashamed of my body. All the invites I declined because I didn’t trust myself around nachos and margaritas. All the relationships I sabotaged because I was afraid to open up and be seen.
I remembered all the conversations I only half listened to because I was too preoccupied with my insecurities. All the beautiful moments I was only half present for because I was too busy looking for an exit.
I realized how much of my life was being lived half-assed because my thoughts were too wrapped up in planning all the ways I could slim down my own plump ass.
Sadly, this was not my first Ah-Ha! moment. Not even close. I have always been fully aware that my life was ruled more by my thighs than my heart, but I never stopped long enough to look and really see how much damage that way of living was causing.
And let me tell you, it was wrecking shop.
My whole body ached. My heart hurt. I repeated “let me go back” like a mantra, hoping that the Universe would hear and magically rewind time so I could have a re-do.
Instead, for the 1st time ever, I felt compassion and understanding towards myself. I saw the girl who had missed out on all those romantic evenings and anything that involved a swimsuit, and I gave her a hug instead of push her away. I understood that she chose to be distant and hide because for most of her life, that was the safer choice. I gave love to the part of me that worries constantly and is convinced that I will always be the fat girl who everyone eventually leaves.
I sat with all this, right there on the side of that country road, and felt all the anger and hurt I had been carrying melt away in the Texas heat.
I promised myself that from that moment on, I would pay attention. I would let go of what I couldn’t go back to change and focus on being right here, right now.
And once again, for the 1st time ever, I knew deep down, that I wasn’t bullshitting myself.
