With the holiday coming up, I thought I’d post about being thankful. Now, I’m thankful for a lot of things, but I really took some time to reflect on what I’m thankful for in the true Sunday Boyfriend spirit…you know, with a dash of honest girl power. So here goes…
I’m thankful I’m not a size 2. Sweet Lord, am I ever thankful I’m not a size 2. Now for all you girls out there who are a size 2, I have nothing against you. You’re lovely. Honest. Maybe I should clarify this by saying, I’m thankful I’m no longer obsessed with trying to be a size 2. Yeah, that’s probably the better way to put it. Because how many of you, like me, fretted over what number clothes you fit into through most of your teenage and twenty-something years? That many? Interesting. Maybe we should start a club for number-obsessed survivors.
I clearly remember that deflating feeling of going into a store and obsessing over what size fit on my body rather than what actually looked good. Did you ever fall victim to buying those smaller sized jeans just because, when you sucked in your gut so far in that your belly button was actually visible on your back, you could zip them up…only to find a lovely muffin top that was about as flattering as say the Michelin Man in a Speedo when you exhaled? Yeah, I’m sad to say, me to. And how ridiculous, really. I was consumed with having the smaller size jeans just to say I was a size smaller than what I actually was. I foolishly thought the size you wore was a measurement of your beauty. I was convinced the lower the number, the more lovely and attractive you were. Forget what the mirror was showing me, if I could squeeze myself into that lower number then, by God, I was hotter with that muffin top in a lower number than contoured in the higher number. What a bunch of malarkey! Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not advocating giving up and letting yourself go. Ah, no. Although I’m not a size 2 and no longer obsessed with being a size 2, I do my best to remain healthy in the size I am by working out and eating right. The bottom line is once I focused on the image, rather than the number, I was a whole lot happier, healthier, and better dressed. Funny what happens when you take the time to really look in the mirror, uh?
I’m thankful I had some crummy boyfriends and Sunday Boyfriends. What did I just say? I’m thankful for the crummy ones? Yep, I did. Let’s face it, all of us have had at least one crummy boyfriend, Sunday Boyfriend, or even transitional person. I happened to have had more than one, but that’s another story for another time. But I’m thankful for each donkey because I walked away from each experience better equipped to recognize the things I don’t want in a relationship a lot sooner and thus saved myself heartache, wasted time, and misery. Because knowing what you don’t want is just as important as knowing what you do want. After each crummy relationship, I tried; I really tried, to look at why it was crummy and my part in it. Each reflection helped get me to a stronger, more outspoken self. So while I realize sometimes a donkey is really just an ass, each ass…er I mean wrong guy…was a gift; a gift wrapped in a crummy package, but a gift nonetheless.
I’m thankful to have learned humility the hard way. This one I can’t stress enough. I am super grateful for all the wonderful times I fell on my face, embarrassed myself, or outright made a fool of myself…especially in front of a boatload of people. Yeah, it’s always more humbling, and better, to flop in front of a lot of people. If you’re thinking, “This is wacked!” Then bear with me for a minute.
A friend of mine once said, “It only seems difficult the first time.” And really, she was right. Trying something new and out of your comfort zone for the first time is always intimidating. And believe it or not, although being type-A, there was a time in my life when I allowed this intimidation to rule my life. I basically shied away from everything and everyone because I was too afraid to let the real me be exposed to scrutiny. There is no better example of this than sharing I didn’t really speak to anyone in high school until late my junior year. I spent two and a half years cowering away from people because I was crippled by the belief I wasn’t worthy to talk to, that I wasn’t good enough. I remember thinking, “What do I have to offer?” This goes to a whole slew of issues, I’ve discovered, that many women go through. But again, this is another post for another time.
I humbly remember the intimidating, and jealous, feeling when watching classmates exhibit a fearless persona: saying whatever they wanted, going wherever they wanted, and doing whatever they wanted. How is it they could be that way and I was the opposite? What did they know that I didn’t? Without going into the intricacies of the DNA wiring system, nature verses nurture, and a slew of psychoanalytical hypotheses, let’s just say I finally figured out everyone is different.
I repeated this shyness in college, until my junior year. You’d think I wouldn’t want to repeat that self-sheltering loneliness. But deep rooted fears are hard to break. When I look back, I always say, “Damn it! You wasted four years being silent and lonely when all you had to do was speak up and be yourself.” The feeling that I wasted time not getting to know myself more by staying away from people and friendships that could have helped me become stronger, earlier, is humbling. I eventually realized in order to have the things, relationships, jobs, and experiences I wanted, I’d have to be true to myself and get out of my comfort zone. So I started to speak up. Sometimes I said things that weren’t right. Sometimes I did things that hurt others. Sometimes I found out I wasn’t as prepared as I thought. And each belly flop, although at first stung, made for memorable moments and a stronger me. So, I’m thankful for not only discovering first time jitters aren’t as scary as you think, but also the sting of belly flops only lasts a second or two and doesn’t really define who you are.
Here’s hoping all us can see the beauty in muffin tops, belly flops, and yes, even donkeys.
As always, be good to yourself, your Sunday Boyfriends, and stay comfy.
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