FitnEss or FitnAss? Goals baby, we’re talking bout goals today.
I was so kerfuffled about this situation, that I felt compelled to write about it. Maybe there is something here.
I’ve been consistent. Lawwwwd, I’ve been consistent lately. And my booty game is getting stronger, better, and bad-asser. But something has happened. My booty got rounder, and it plumped. I wasn’t prepared for this, but… my favorite dimple on my big ole booty just…. went away. I’m talking vanished. Here today, gone tomorrow. You know how a pregnant woman gets to the end of term and she’s so full of baby that her belly button becomes an outie? That. Happened. To my dimple.
I want to talk to you about the reality of being a “big girl” my whole life, or at least this has been my view of myself. Along with that, the fear that ensued when I started to see transformation that I thought might threaten my “identity”. I’ve got to be honest when I say, I’m actually a little nervous to shrink. Will I recognize myself? Do other people unknowingly fear change, even when it’s the very change they have worked hard for? I questioned, “Am I subconsciously holding myself back due to the fear of change?”
I saw the dimple, or lack thereof and immediately thought, “Wait! I wanted to keep that one, that’s a quirky part of me. QUICK, does Uber Eats deliver donuts to this part of town?” Okay, so I didn’t LITERALLY think to turn to junk food and sabotage my hard work, but did I subconsciously do the equivalent of that? I found excuses the entire next week to forego the gym. A place I have come to love. Good to know it only takes a week for a dimple to come back. WHAT THE HECK, JESS?
Could our external changes or circumstances really change our character? Would my identity be threatened? What if the changes are resulting from hard work and commitment? I would think these would result in positive shifts in one’s character. Things like commitment, encouragement, discipline, exchanging happiness for real joy. Why was I having this existential crisis as a result of a vanishing “flaw”?
Let’s take a little trip back in time. Little Jessica, six years old. Do you see her? Purple Lion King pants, a Pocahontas T-shirt, the fashion sense of a goddess. When I was a little girl, my mom was my WORLD. It was a morning ritual for me to sit on the toilet lid watching her in awe while she struck model poses for me, and blow-dried her hair. “Static mommy, static!” How I believed “modeling” was called “static” we will never know, but we will forever lovingly accept. My mom had the most wicked cool, curly, afro-looking hair. It was mom, with light brown hair and a kind heart.
As always, consistent and faithfully she picked me up from daycare after work. This day was different. The woman walking towards me with open arms did not resemble my mother. She was a mommy with short, blonde, STRAIGHT HAIR. Still traumatized people, I’m still working through this… clearly.
I cried. She laughed. I wailed. She got annoyed. I told her that she was mean now and I was sure it was because of her new hair. In my six year old mind, her appearance made her a different woman. A calloused, scary mommy.
This was not the truth of course, but it was my fear and I projected it to my reality. My mom got mean when she cut her hair, is this what would happen to me if I lost weight? I had a not so holy conniption fit because I didn’t want her to be different than the woman I idolized. It threatened my comfort, the familiar face that would static for me.
I’m assuming you don’t all identify as a “big girl” nor struggle with the fear that as this changes, your character will change. But do you have anything like that in your life? A physical trait, a habit, a friendship, maybe even a way of life that you have held so close to yourself, that you have allowed it to become entangled in how you identify and view who you are? Would changing it change your character? What if it was lost or changed outside of your control? It seems I may have tied my character to my physical appearance and I have labeled my identity by a physical trait. WHAT?! I feel like we might be in dangerous territory if we are questioning our identity due to changes to our external selves or our way of life. How fragile is my character if changing my appearance would really threaten it?
I am making conscious health decisions in my life that will in fact naturally change my body and yet I subconsciously fear it. I honestly don’t think I could name any specifics to the fear, only that my body is the home for my soul, and I have made my home very comfortable. If the decorations change, I can handle that, but the structure of it? That might take some getting used to. What about the neighborhood? The external surroundings and people close to us? If they change, that might change everything. Do we give everything we’ve got towards our goal but subconsciously tell ourselves we can’t make the changes because it’s not part of the list that we hold up to measure our identity? It might challenge our comfort.
Do you identify as the weak one, the overworked businessman, the overly tired working mother? Weak decides to lift and become stronger, businessman schedules in blocks of time for his family, and momma gets a babysitter for a date night with her husband. It’s not easy to make these changes, and we work for them knowing they will better our lives, but do we fear the mourning of our old self? So much so that in some cases that we half ass our goals?
Ladies. Gentlemen. If our goals are being driven from a place of health and wellness and we are keeping our hearts and minds in check I believe that no matter how big that booty gets from all those squats, and no matter how different your new healthy lifestyle is from your old way of life, I believe you are you. Just as passionately, I believe that knowledge is power, and I hope we can be honest with ourselves and speak truth into the face of fear.
Things like; “My body was made to be active, I should do myself this favor.”
“My family is most important and time with them is a more meaningful investment than today’s tasks at work.”
“My husband and I’s relationship comes first! The kids will benefit.”
“My mommy looks different but she is still nice.”
My momma was and is still Lynner. She has the cutest short blonde hair and is more full of life than ever. I don’t know how she does it but she has loved me through all my life, every season. Even without the white girl afro. Go figure, a woman could still love after massive reconstructive hair styling. (Only kidding mom.) She’s still mom, and she’s still kind. It was merely my perception and fear that made me assume she was any different.
My dimple may be plumped but my big girl heart knows how hard I have worked to get where I am and where I’m going. I will gladly accept additions to my character through the process. Hard work. Discipline. Joy in the pain. It is a choice to change, I will not fear it, I will acknowledge it, and I will do my best to navigate it. Dimple be gone! I’m still me, batchhhh. (Sorry it just felt right.)
Let’s get after it!