Big is graduating from high school next month. Then, in August, Mr. FixIt and I have our 50+1 Year High School Reunion. I had every intention of losing weight and being svelte for both occasions, yet…here I am. Just…me. *heavy sigh* (Pun intended.)

When I got out of the shower yesterday, I sat on the edge of the bed to brush my hair. It’s become a much bigger ordeal now that it’s almost down to my waist. I used to hide from my body. I wouldn’t anymore sit in front of a mirror in my “all together” than I would run naked down the street. But, a lot has changed in the last couple of years. The pandemic made eating two loaves of sourdough bread a week an absolute necessity. And don’t get me started on the cookies and cinnamon rolls and biscuits, ok? Let’s just say…food was my comfort during a decidedly uncomfortable season in my life.

As I sat there, brushing my hair and looking at the leftover cinnamon rolls on my belly and hips, I got a great flash of insight. If we divide our lives up like we divide the year…in seasons, then it’s wintertime for this body. And what do we do in the winter? We give ourselves permission to seek comfort. I’ve learned I can embrace the snow or I can be miserable in it. Either way…there will be snow. So why not choose happy? Same with my body. I can love it or hate it but it’s the only one I’ve got. It’s just the meat sack my soul lives in till I get to go Home. I’ll be good to it and not hate myself for feeding it cookies from time to time.

My longest relationship was with a man who valued good health and to him, good health equaled being thin and athletic. Not my forte. As often happens when people aren’t on the same page in a marriage, frustrations boiled over and hurtful things were said in anger. Things that scarred me. I’ve forgiven those things because we are all just works in progress. But, I’ll be honest…up until the summer before the pandemic, I still felt self conscious about my weight in front of him.

Not anymore. Mr. FixIt and I went shopping yesterday at Kohl’s. My goal was to get something nice to wear to Big’s graduation in Colorado. As I walked through the store, it occurred to me I wasn’t feeling bad about it. I wasn’t wondering if there was some way to make myself look like I’ve lost fifty pounds by the middle of May. Like, maybe they have a new undergarment that will squeeze me into a size 12. Yeah…not bloody likely. 

It’s not that I don’t care. It’s not that I don’t think it’s important to be healthy. I got the first inkling of this change when I apologized to the doctor for my weight a couple of years ago. He was quiet a moment while he looked at me and said, “You know, you can be healthy AND carry extra weight.” 

Wow.

Permission to be normal. Who knew a doctor could be this way? Not I.

I’ve chosen a lot of new ways to feel this year. I’ve had two surgeries that didn’t find what we were hoping for. Were they failures? No…each one took out a tumor. We just couldn’t find all of them. I’ve adjusted my attitude from the fifty year plan to the twenty year plan. I’m not the weight I wanted to be for the events I have coming up. You know what? That’s ok. It’s been a hella hard couple of years and I’m blessed to be standing upright and taking nourishment. We haven’t had covid or lost our family to it. We aren’t destitute and can afford to eat and buy a tank of gas and have a roof over our heads. 

I’m good. Besides, I’m not fat…I’m fluffy! And I bought a gorgeous outfit that will work for BOTH events! I get my peace from Jesus…not my jeans.

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“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.””

John 16:33 ESV