This photo. Hmmm. I love it and hate it all at once but I’m working on letting the love flow and releasing the hate. Kevin snapped this of Ruby and I while we were in Hawaii this past April. He loved that she and I were laying in the same position and just how much alike we looked. I love that about it too. I mean LOVE that about it. Can you guess what I don’t love? Thighs. Oh thighs. There they are. Both of them. Unclothed and unprotected by spanx. Oh my thighs (OMT). And even now, I’m regretting bringing them, meaning my thighs, up at all and more into focus in this photo than they already were. Backspace? Should I? No… Here goes… I have this problem where I am constantly outing myself. In my head, if I tell you I know I’ve got a thigh problem then they will magically appear thinner and more toned on your screen. And if I’m upfront and I tell you something about myself that I’m insecure about then I feel like you will judge me less because at least I have some degree of self-awareness. I do this a lot. It’s really awkward and strange. Worst of all, it’s a completely unproven theory that I insist on repeating over and over in my life. I need help but, anyway, I do love this photo. And who really cares about thighs? I mean, except for pretty much everyone I’ve ever met… But the truth is I want to be the kind of woman and mother who is comfortable in her own skin; who can enjoy swimming with her family and not worrying about the bareness of her thighs. We all have insecurities and this is one of mine; one of many. I will always strive to better myself spiritually, mentally and physically but there is also something to be said for contentment and for not obsessing over an insecurity so much that you’re unable to enjoy yourself. Now, I’m not advocating chubbiness but I am simply stating that it’s important to leave some of your complexes at the pool gate and dive into the deep end freely. I am working to overcome being hung up on this one small detail in an otherwise very sweet photo. Side note… when I just said “small detail” there I was referring to my thighs metaphorically, of course, and not literally. Crud. I did it again. If only I could stop talking about it… Then you would have nothing to read.
In conclusion, I’m letting go of the hate and choosing to share this photo with you in an attempt to overcome. A photo that my darling husband took because he knew it would mean something to me. Peace out, hate. And hopefully chubby thighs, someday. And here’s my promise, if soon we meet, I will try very hard to avoid bringing up my chubbiness, the tightness of my jeans or the fact that I’m sporting 2 pair of spanx. Okay…there. I think I got it all out of my system. Forgive me. I’m a work in progress.