beautiful

kim called, the other day. as sisters, we are extremely close. both headstrong ~ stubborn to a fault. tho we'd probably never admit it, we are also fiercely competitive and as different as east and west. as adults, its taken us a long time to get to a point where we can agree to disagree. more conversations than not, have ended in her absolute exasperation, at me. and i, in turn, am often disillusioned when hanging up the phone.

one of our biggest fights ever, was born of her simply asking my opinion. she feels i am entirely too open. too liberal. and i can't believe that the majority of life is black and white, when there is obviously so much unchartered grey area.

that's ironic, when growing up, we were so different. i was miss Goody Two Shoes. the one who took home-ec and learned to cross her legs at the ankles....to speak when spoken to, that dreamt of a Little House On The Prairie life. i did everything i was supposed to, while i felt like she got away with murder. noone ever suspected i'd be the one to elope, to run off to places like california and seattle and tennessee. to marry and divorce. to explore who i was, in relationship to myself, with people, with God. to get tattoos, to Go My Own Way. or that she would be the one to quit college, marry into a ready-made family and live on a farm. although we were cut from the same cloth, we are very, very different.

this said, she is also one of my biggest heros and strongest supporters. she is passionate about what she believes in. she is stubborn and proud, a gifted writer, an incredible mom, and an awesome woman. i'm immensely proud to say we're related. for her sake, at least. ha.

so she called the other day, to catch up. talk about the baby and such. and somehow...somewhere along the way, we got to talking about body image. kim has just had a baby, so her mind-body ratio hasn't quite evened out yet. i remember full-well,looking at my newly un-pregnated naked self in the mirror and tsk'ing.

one of my biggest pet peeves is women's body image. mainly, the lack thereof. we are always our own worst critics. and c'mon, everyone is entitled to their *days*, whether those be fat, ugly, bad hair, you name it . but it honestly makes me angry, to hear women downing themselves. or worse yet, other women.

for example. in my eyes, my sister is a beautiful petite blonde. she has the long graceful neck and legs that women kill for. her pre-pregnancy, normal size is like, a negative 000. maybe i exaggerate. just a smidge.but this is the woman that can actually buy clothes out of the childrens department.(gag). i think she got up to 83 lbs (ok, maybe more like 120 lbs), her last pregnancy. (again, gag).

I am anything but.

listen, i'm familiar with reality. trust me, we're tight. and i'm not about to make excuses for myself. i'm short and therefore entirely too heavy for my height and health according to medical standards. i have been my healthiest feeling, most comfortable and proportionate between 180-215 lbs. i can hang with a size between a 16-18 and be right near bliss. i'm also a ways' off from that. :ahem:

i have some thigh dimples happening. a little of the fat back. i have that bit of overhang pooch that comes with having babies. the double chin mocks me cruelly from time to time. my hair isn't as thick as it used to be. my skin not as supple. my badunkadunk, well, i never really had. thanks, aunt cheryl.

i don't exercise like i should and i'll be the first to admit if i don't put myself in check, i can easily lean a tad to the side of lazy. until recently, i've carried on a long torrid love affair with all that is soda. i genuinely want to see myself in a bikini again in the next little while.even if i'm the only one that sees me in one. i don't want health problems. but while i'm working on it,while i have room for all these little improvements, i'm also glad for what i've got. i don't forgo swimming because i feel the need to wear a one-piece. and i don't not wear shorts simply because my legs aren't perfectly tan and lithe.

and i think i'm beautiful.

i am proportionate and curvy. i've got some hips and kachongas happenin. i have beautiful blue-green eyes. i love my hands. my muscular legs. the curve of my back.

i think crows feet are an homage to a life fully lived. i think a mothers tummy is indeed a badge of honor. i salute all the women out there that seem to have it all together. lets face it. some hot abs is some hot abs. anyone who watches "workout" on bravo can shout halleluiah with me there.

but there's also something to be said for aging gracefully. the way we were meant to be. not to fight it, but embrace it. to me, there is nothing more beautiful than a natural woman, inside and out.

and no, by no means, do i mean just sit and rot in your easy chair. get up, move around. breathe. better yourself. be healthy, be active. live. but the woman that embraces herself and life full-on, with acceptance, love and laughter, is the most beautiful woman in the world.

we all judge. we do. we can't help ourselves. you see someone in the line at the grocery store in her house slippers with her hair disheveled, her kid with the koolaid stains spinning in circles like a scene straight out of "parenthood" and you're automatically tempted to assume things.

and, y'know.... not even the right things. you automatically stifle a disgusted shiver...after all, you in all the wonder that is you, would never go out in public looking like that. but you don't take the time to imagine that maybe she just got off a 10 hour shift, that she's exhausted, that everyone at home, including her, has sinus infections and there's no childrens tylenol left and the cupboards are bare. so here she is, doing what she needs to do while you snub your nose.

i for one, think that's wrong. besides.... that may have been me in front of you.

and no, this isn't one of those soapbox posts on society standards. maybe i'm just one of the few people left out there, that take people as they are.

maybe its because i'm not perfect. because at 32, i have yet to have my eyebrows or my woo waxed, i still don't know how to apply eye liner properly and i have the fashion sense God gave a warthog. that i still wear printed teeshirts, despite what stacy and clinton say on What Not To Wear. that in a group of peers, i often feel like the pregnant sow. that i don't know how cool a coach purse is or that shoulder pads really truly did go out of style in the 80's - i can "trust you on this."

i just don't understand how women can be so critical of eachother.

to me, its not ok to assume someone is from the wrong side of the tracks because of how she looks in a moment. i am forever inspired by women's beauty and the women who beat the odds and remind me i'm not so very different. that i am just as blessed, with the life i lead and the body that takes me there. the kate gosselins and the rosemarie siggins and countless others, that i think are absolutely beautiful inside and out. i think its so important to love yourself now, in this moment. to change, evolve, grow. but embrace yourself as you are. because this? right now? is a part of your journey. your story. so write it.

my body is not perfect. but it has seen me thru many triumphs and heartaches. it has been cherished, it has been pushed to the limit. it has been challenged. it has been raped. it has been reborn. my tummy is not perfect. but it has known the loss of 2 children and the joy of 1 living. my neck is not long and graceful but it has survived my first husbands near fatal choking, and it has known the joy of my song. my arms may not be as tight as they used to be, but they have cared and nurtured for countless people in my life, and my hugs are like christmas, birthdays and chocolate covered kittens all rolled into one. my hands, tho starting ever so slowly to wrinkle, have soothed a hundred fevers, have made a thousand meals. have grown, have comforted, have loved.

so if my face is my story, you'd better believe its a good read.