Two Ways to Look at a Woman

I'm currently reading a book called The Beauty Myth by Naomi Wolf.  It's an older book now; you might even be able to get away with calling it a classic feminist book, since it's 25 years old at this time.  It talks about the backlash from society against women after the women's movement and as women gained more power and status in our culture.  I won't go too into the book because it's pretty deep, but I'll say that it's worth reading even if you're not interested in feminism or the women's movement.

I do want to quote a part of the book that really moved me.  She's talking about how cosmetic companies and doctors try to make a woman's normal body functions and aging process into diseases for their own profit, and that you can see a woman two ways.

"You could see the signs of female aging as diseased, especially if you had a vested interest in making women too see them your way.  Or you could see that if a women is healthy she lives to grow old; as she thrives, she reacts and speaks and shows emotion, and grows into her face.  Lines trace thought and radiate from the corners of her eyes after decades of laughter, closing together like fans as she smiles.  You could call the lines a network of "serious lesions," or you could see that in a precise calligraphy, thought has etched marks of concentration between her brows, and drawn across her forehead the horizontal creases of surprise, delight, compassion, and good talk.  A lifetime of kissing, of speaking and weeping, shows expressively around a mouth scored like a leaf in motion.  The skin loosens on her face and throat, giving  her features a setting of sensual dignity; her features grow stronger as she does.  She has looked around in her life, and it shows.  When gray and white reflect in her hair, you could call it a dirty secret or you could call it silver or moonlight.  Her body fills into itself, taking on gravity like a bather breasting water, growing generous with the rest of her.  The darkening under her eyes, the weight of her lids, the minute cross-hatching, reveal that what she has been part of has left in her its complexity and richness.  She is darker, stronger, looser, tougher, sexier.  The maturing of a woman who has continued to grow is a beautiful thing to behold. 

Or, if your ad revenue or your seven-figure salary or your privilegde sexual status depend on it, it is an operable condition."

I hope I can see my own aging as a beautiful thing.

 

Perspective

I went to a baby shower last weekend, and I got to see some people there who I haven't seen in quite some time.  One woman, who knew me from when I was quite young and hasn't really seen me for about 10 years, told me that I was wasting away!  I laughed and told her I was still quite pudgy, and there was no threat of me wasting away anytime soon.

But it got me to thinking about it.  What did I look like the last time she saw me?  I was about 17-18 years old, at my heaviest of 275 pounds, and pretty miserable.  I wouldn't let anyone take any pictures of me because I was so ashamed of how I looked, so when I went looking for some this morning, I had a really hard time actually finding any.  But I did find a few.

Age 17

Here's me in 2001/2002 at my heaviest.  As you can see, I wasn't very happy to have my picture taken!

Age 21/22

Here I am in 2006.  Believe it or not, I was at least 20 pounds lighter in this picture than the first one, but still uncomfortably heavy.

Age 25

This one was taken in 2010, right after losing 30 pounds on a low calorie vegetarian diet.  I was looking and feeling much better, but I was still pudgy.

Age 28

And here I am in January of this year.  I haven't really noticed it, but I have lost more weight since 2010.  And, more importantly, I've gained a lot of muscle.  My weight only dropped about 5 pounds from that last picture, but I lost several inches around my waist and hips and gained an inch around my arms. 

It's funny how I see myself.  I look in the mirror and I still see a fat girl.  I see my big round hips, my belly, my flabby thighs, my bat wings, and sometimes I think to myself, "Man, you're fat.  You should try losing more weight."  But I'm not actually seeing myself for what I really am.  I'm seeing the old me when I look in the mirror.  It's not until I look it the old pictures of me next to the current pictures that I actually realize, wow, I've really come a long way.  Maybe I'm not so fat afterall. 

I think we all are harder on ourselves than we should be.  Maybe I'm not perfect, and I'll never have a model's body, but I'm healthy and I look darn good.  I really wish I had taken more before and after shots, and a bunch of during shots, so I can really look at them now and see how much progress I've really made.  And so that every time I'm tempted to eat junky sugary food, I can look at those pictures to remind myself of how awesome my new way of life is for me. 

Has anyone else had this problem?  You can only see the way you used to look and can't recognize yourself for who you've become after losing weight?  I'm sure I'm not the only one.