The nemesis of my fabulous 50’s has been a wicked set of bathroom scales. They mock me from their corner. They whisper sweet promises of me wearing skinny jeans or leggings with “oh-so-cute tunics and sweaters,” and then…
They. lie. to. my. face.
I hate those scales. I loathe having to weigh. This is probably the emotional residue from my years as a Weight Watcher member and leader. I still have an overwhelming urge to count points and measure my portions.
I must say I have reached the point where I refuse to be in a constant state of anxiety over the digital number giving me the evil eye. I want to break the condemnation cycle. I need to see my 53 year old body the way God sees me…beautiful…holy…redeemed.
And while spouting that a “number does not define me or my worth,” I know that I need to be active, make healthy food choices, and take care of my body.
This healthy-weight, body-image, be -healthy mind set does not come as an either/or issue. It needs to be an “all of the above” game plan.
I want to eat good food.
I don’t want to live on low-carb, low fat, low taste meals, processed diet food for the rest of my life. I want balance. I am willing to give up mediocre, empty-of-pleasure food for an occasional “fabulous” food splurge. For example, I am perfectly happy to have a protein shake or a bowl of cereal for a meal if I know shrimp tacos or chicken quesadillas are on the horizon for the weekend. (YES!)
If I am a little fluffier in areas than I was in my 30’s and my 40’s … so be it.
Menopause has a sadistic mind. Aging happens. Energy levels ebb and flow, and insomnia doesn’t play well with others.
A big plus for this fluffy stage of adulthood is that there are some very cute “fluffy girl” fashions today.
Honey, I am thankful. So. Thankful.
A cute tee, a great fitting pair of jeans, and a bold little sweater or jacket…
And I am ready…
Tagged: Weight loss