In the second episode of The Kibbitz Podcast, my co-host, Andrea, and I discussed our maturing (a nicer word for aging) bodies. This required quite a bit of vulnerability on my part, but I decided, what have I got to lose?
Maybe sharing my struggles will help others who are fighting the same battle.
My entire life, I’ve obsessed over my weight, watching the numbers on the scale yo-yo. I’ve always envied those who seem to be able to eat anything they want and never pack on the pounds or complain about gaining a few pounds here or there. Since hitting middle age, my weight has increased steadily year after year. I’m conscious of everything I put in my mouth, often feeling guilty when I splurge, and as I reach menopause, even exercise doesn’t necessarily help keep the weight off. Accepting who I am is something I’m still working on, and basing my value on more than my reflection in the mirror is a challenge I’m still facing.
When I look back at photos of myself over the decades, I realize these snapshots in time capture so much more than my physical appearance.
Photos of the author through the years.
They bring back the thoughts and feelings, the hopes and dreams, all the emotions I experienced at various ages. There are the photos of me in 8th grade, the first time I lost a significant amount of weight. The difference between my Bat Mitzvah photos and photos from just a year later tell a story. I believed all the popular girls in school were the cheerleaders or athletes with perfect bodies. I thought that, to have a boyfriend or be popular, I needed a similar body, so I went on a diet. I exercised both morning and night. I weighed myself twice daily. It became an obsession that had the desired effect, but I grew exhausted from the “all or nothing” approach I took to dieting.
I finally let go of this structured regime when I reached high school.
While I wasn’t as thin as I had been, I wasn’t exactly overweight either. More importantly, I had good friends and enjoyed my extracurricular activities. I dated a little. I still had insecurities, but I wasn’t as concerned with being popular. I was, for the most part, happy.
Years later in college, after my breakup with my first real boyfriend, I decided to diet again. This time, I took pleasure in getting in shape. I worked out with my best friend, and going to the gym became a social outlet. We took pride in our appearances and loved shopping for clothes. This was my “fashionable” era, when I enjoyed how I looked in the mirror, and I enjoyed how clothes fit my body. When I met my husband, I was 22 and in my prime. We fell in love and were engaged a couple of years later.
While planning our wedding, my weight was at the forefront in my mind. I fantasized about the day I’d walk down the aisle in my wedding gown. I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted to be perfect.
The author on her wedding day.
When that day finally came, I wasn’t at my ideal weight, but that didn’t take away from the moment. Looking at our wedding album now, I see a beautiful woman standing under the chuppah. What I notice most isn’t the healthy figure I had, but didn’t appreciate at the time, but the happiness on my face as I gazed at my husband under the chuppah and the joy that seemed to radiate from us both. I was, for lack of a better word, glowing.
It’s been almost 26 years since then. My body has gone through a lot in those 26 years.
When I was pregnant with each of my daughters, I loved watching my stomach grow as the life inside me grew. I felt filled with a sense of purpose. With pregnancy came stretch marks and a bulge around my middle, I’ve never been able to lose. But it also came with two beautiful, healthy baby girls. It came with the title of “Mom,” a title I wear proudly.
With my 20s, 30s, and now 40s in the rearview mirror, I’ve put on weight. There are moments that I catch myself in the mirror, and I’m shocked by what I see. The person staring back at me is older and heavier, and somewhere along the way, this person has given up.
After years of having a complicated relationship with my weight, I’m hopeful that I can change my perspective.
The author today.
I’m hopeful that I can stop comparing myself to others. I’m hopeful that I’ll stop listening to the inner voice that yells, “You’re a failure. You’ve let yourself go. You’ll never succeed. You always try and give up. You should just give up.” It’s really hard not to listen to that voice. I’m hopeful that I can judge my self-worth not by the number on the scale, but by my accomplishments and contributions to this world. My daughter is a fashion designer with Lane Bryant, a plus-size clothing brand, and seeing her excitement to design for larger bodies has given me a new outlook on how women are beautiful at any size. I’m beginning to realize that being thin should no longer be my focus. Instead, being healthy is what’s important. Being able to just feel good in my own body is what’s important. Vanity has given way to a desire to live my best life and find joy and balance in that life. That is what I now strive for.
And I give myself permission to take it one day at a time.
My friend, Andrea, and I co-host The Kibbitz podcast, where we kibbitz about all that’s important to us as two Jewish moms from Cincinnati. If this article resonated with you, click here to listen to the podcast.
Thanks for sharing your very relatable journey. Thing I’ve learned is to focus on nutrition and health, and not on weight or image. I do become my best self when I feel good, have energy, sleep well, and have mental clarity. And all of that is so much more important than the number on the scale. I would say when I see your current pictures and when I see you in person, what I see is a wise woman, filled with integrity and love. I think you’re winning.💕