Weight naught, want not.

It's always a good sign when the glass is half full.  Lots of people consider themselves to be the "glass-is-half-full" type of people.  My husband is and I like that about him.  But sometimes... I mean, let's call a spade a spade here.

I don't necessarily fall into this "the glass is half full" category.  I'd like to know exactly what this glass is full of.  Are we talking a delightful martini?  A rich glass of wine?  Or, is the glass, in the parlance of our times, full of shit?  The glass is always full of something, so when you dig deeper, I think it really only matters what the person is full of.  And there are two kinds of people.

There are people that are full of substance- a generic term that pretty much covers all things good, and there are people that are full of said shit.  I can say this because I'm just now realizing how full of shit I can be.

When my daughter was born recently I realized you expend as much energy being full of... it... as you do being held accountable to what it is you say you stand for.  This realization lead me to another realization: with such limited expendable energy, you might as well get something done.  Quit messing around.

So, I promise to be less full of it when it comes to my self image.  Women often have a hard time projecting how they really feel about themselves because they so often feel crappy.  I could be making a gross realization about women and their self image, but I could also be right.  I'll own this, though, and speak only for myself.

I'm a bit tired of playing the victim and blaming my misgivings or short-comings on someone or something else.  I've bitched and moaned about my body since I've been twelve.  Probably younger.  At ONE time have I ever felt confident and proud of my body.  I was a junior in college, literally not eating, and teeny with hot hip bones that showed when I wore my hot ass jeans.  I was in control and recall thinking at one point that beauty really is power.  I got whatever I wanted.  Out at bars, in school, at Starbucks.

Why?  Why weight?

Why is it that the less I weigh the better I feel?  No matter how empty or hungry?  After all the lies about having just eaten or 'I'll eat later'.  I was so damn cute but so full of shit.  I lied to myself, made myself believe that feeling thin was better than feeling full.  Really what it was, was that feeling in control felt better than feeling like I was less than who I should be because I weighed more.

I don't even know if that made sense.  But here I am, twenty seven, and a new mom with baby weight packed right where it prefers to sit.  Yes, I have a fabulous excuse for my [not so] newly acquired  [rotund] physique.  My daughter is fantastic.  She's my little nugget and I would do anything for her- including walk around with a fat ass.  But not for long.

In my attempt to be full of less shit, I'm going to actually work out hard and diet honestly.  Which means eat healthily and go easy on the sweets.  Ugh.  It's so much easier to starve.

It'll be a journey to work for a body I'm proud of.  It's a journey to work on being full of substance.  It's mental mostly, anyways, the determination it will take to be consistent and dedicated to my goal of losing weight and feeling proud of the person I am.  But at least, no matter how this ends up, I'll know that whatever I get done will be mine- that I didn't waste energy and hate myself for it.  I'd like to see this energy yield a positive result so that my glass really will be full of something good.  Like a delightful martini. That comes with a salad.  After I just worked out.