I’m at a point in my life where I’m trying hard to learn acceptance. Acceptance of ageing, all the daily imperceptible changes that added up to change that youthful smooth skinned girl into this middle-aged crepey skinned woman!
I’m struggling and can’t pretend I’m not. It didn’t happen over night. A lot like gaining or losing weight ageing is a bizarre process of perception. Possibly because we can’t see ourselves from the outside as we do others we build up an idea of how we look in our head’s. Only catching a fleeting glance in mirrors, windows and other reflective surfaces here and there to add more details (new hair colour/cut etc) not taking in the real picture every time we see ourselves.
I wonder if people surrounded by mirrors all day like hair stylists, clothes shop assistants or double glazing agents have a different view point but for me at least; I’m not sure if it’s because I don’t have a lot of time and don’t wear make-up or have many mirrors in my immediate environment but I rarely actually study myself. When I do ‘poof’ 10lbs heavier 10 years older seemingly over night!
I’ve documented my struggles with my weight, but a brief synopsis: I was a short, chubby, muscular girl when the fashion for women was tall and lean, after my first child I was obviously still short but quite slim my mind like that of many people who’ve lost weight still believed I was fat.
Most of my adult life I haven’t had a weight problem I’ve rarely gone above a UK 12 (US 8) even at the cuddly end of my personal spectrum but my mind has tortured me. When I’m at a point where I should be happy I’m always striving for better. On the one hand I can look and see improvements and am happy but at one and the same time I can see what else I could/should change/strive for.
I’m driving myself round the bend. I know I should be grateful for genes that haven’t let me get morbidly obese despite times of comfort eating. I’m strong and able to train effectively for functional fitness. I’ve Improved in the sense I no longer see training as a punishment for eating but as something I love, that’s entirely for me and an antidepressant to boot. But even the guilt at my lack of gratitude can see me comfort eating.
This body has been knocking around for 47+ years, in that time it’s been through a window seriously damaging a wrist and requiring extensive rehabilitation and physiotherapy,been addicted to drugs,all be it a lifetime ago, been home to 6 small humans over the course of 23 years, gained weight, lost weight,run hundreds if not thousands of miles, lifted weights, torn ligaments, strained muscles and repaired itself. Logic tells me it’s in remarkably good shape for all that but and this is the hard bit, 47 years have passed, I’m not getting any younger and baring a lottery win (I have the cosmetic procedures to do list) I’m stuck with this crepey skin, middle age spread is looming. If I wasn’t happy at 30… I’m getting older nothing is going to change that in all other areas of life I am positivity personified, the challenge as ever is to learn to live with myself, my ‘failings’ and be content and grateful for the privilege of life. A x
#ageing #middle-aged #middleage #life #perception #weightgain #middleagespread #gratitude