What Is It About Body Image?

I have been scanning photos of my teens and twenties and am amazed at how svelte and frankly gorgeous I looked. Why didn’t I ever think that at the time?

I’ve always thought myself to be just a little too fat, my legs stubby like piano legs, my stomach poochy as if a baguette lay within – and so on and so on. I’ve rarely been comfortable in my body. I have never thought myself “the right shape.” If only my ankles were slimmer. If only my knees were less padded, more knobby . . .

In my twenties and thirties, I don’t remember being complimented by my husband. I don’t recall comments like “you look beautiful in that dress” or “you look sexy tonight.” He may in fact have complimented me, but it didn’t happen often enough to make a lasting impression.

It didn’t make an impression because when it comes down to it, what was lacking all those years was my own appreciation. I could never tell myself: “you are perfect, just as you are.”

And now, in my sixties, I am thirty pounds heavier. The blemishes, wrinkles, flab, and cellulite have taken up permanent residence.

I grieve for what I squandered! I didn’t appreciate the beauty of youth, the sheer joy of being comfortable and relishing a lovely body – not perfect by societal standards – but lovely nonetheless.

Am I still playing the same self-deprecating game? Am I looking at all the flaws and not appreciating that I still have a pleasant silhouette that is strong and limber, eyes that sparkle, and a smile that lifts my face and hides the jowls?

When will I be in sync and come to rest in the beauty of who I am at this moment?