loving the belly…

I love my belly. I have to remind myself to love my belly but I do love my belly. I have to remind myself not to make that heavy sigh when I sit down and see it peeking out at me over my low rise jeans.  When will high rise jeans come back into fashion? That’s what I want to know.

I have to remind myself to love my belly whenever I get those side ads on my Facebook page giving me ideas on how to get rid of my “muffin top.”

I have to remind myself to love my belly whenever I get emails telling me the best way to reduce my waistline or increase my bustline or Lord knows…

There is no legitimate get rich program for the body. All the changes in my body took place over time, over meals, over snacks, over couch sitting, over baby sitting, over baby making. All the changes that take place in my body took time to build and if I want to make a change in my body I have to do it over time and with a lot of patience.

And patience? Patience comes with the reminder that I love my belly.  Maybe it’s not like this for you, maybe you have to choose “action” first and belly love second. You know yourself a lot better than I do, better than anyone does, really.  I have to remind myself to love my belly not because I never want to “get rid of my muffin top”  but because this is the belly I have now and forever, no matter how much of it falls over the top of my low-rise jeans. I have to start with loving the body I have because when I love the belly, I take better care of it. Reminding myself to love my belly or my thighs or my flabby arms reminds me that it is worth my attention, worth my consideration, worth my care. I am my belly and my thighs and my flabby arms.  I am worthy of care.


2 Comments to “loving the belly…”

  1. Thanks for posting this, Angela. I love my belly, too. Sometimes, I look at it in the mirror, and can’t believe that it’s mine. But then I feel my silky skin, and squish some of the flab, and remember that we’re old friends. I’m especially fond of my belly this week. See, I discovered that part of my “belly” is actually a giant ovarian tumor. I’m not fond of the tumor, and I keep trying to imagine what my belly will look like when it’s gone. A lot flatter, for sure! And I’ll be glad to lose those 10-15 extra pounds of out of control body. And I’ll be happy to fit into the beautiful Valentino jacket my brother bought for me. And then I try to imagine what my flawless belly will look like after it has been cut open and I have a 10″-12″ scar running down it. A scar marring my beautiful belly! This really distresses me, and I’m thinking of asking for a plastic surgeon suture this most treasured body part.

    I’ve decided that I’ll love my belly even after it’s landscape has changed.

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