“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.” ~ Martin Luther King Jr.
If any of y’all watch the AMC show Mad Men, you know who Christina Hendricks is. If not – she is the GOWJUS redheaded actress who plays Joan Harris (Holloway) on the show. Now, look up. THOSE are her measurements. THAT is a normal size woman. That is a normal size THIN woman. Also note, she is 5 foot 8 inches tall, and weighs somewhere around 154 lbs. Healthy. Very healthy. And not “healthy” in the way that guys say it as to not sound rude when calling a woman fat.
Now, compare that with Christina Aguilera, who is 5 foot 2 (that is SIX inches shorter) and weighs around 100 lbs (114 at her current chubby weight. Basically 10 lbs less each inch shorter. Which is healthy as well), and wears the insanely popular goal size of 00 jeans.
Now, I don’t think we should compare ourselves to anybody. It’s not healthy on any level… but to compare ourselves to people who have personal chefs, home gyms and thousand buck an hour personal trainers? That’s just masochistic.
If you look at both women, and take their height and body shape into consideration, they’re healthy for their height and size. And they’re completely different. If you notice, Aguilera looks chubby at 114 lbs. While Hendricks looks sexy and voluptuous at 154 lbs. I, personally, look like I’m a cancer patient at 114 lbs. who am I kidding?! I look like I have a disease at 130 lbs. 154 is my ideal weight – but I feel IMMENSE pressure to look like Aguilera.
Here’s the other thing: Aguilera isn’t even FAT! Now, in all the blogs, websites, and google searches I’ve done and in all the comments I’ve read, people have been ripping her apart for the 14 lbs she’s gained since her movie Burlesque. It’s terrible. And cruel. And it leads to yo-yo dieting. And that is scary and sad.
I, personally, would put hands on someone if they said to me what they’ve been typing about her. And I’m preeeeeetttyy sure they wouldn’t say it to her face. As a society they are holding her to a standard that is completely unfair; that they don’t even hold themselves to. If 114 pounds at 5’2″ is fat, then I am morbidly obese at 5’8″ and 170 lbs. (which, I will point out, is a 14 lbs weight gain. Same as her. And I am not huge.) Now, I know I need to lose 10 lbs at least (first year, trans-Atlantic, happy marriage weight), but if someone called me a cow and to get out of the trough? Yeah… they wouldn’t find the body.
And, FOURTEEN POUNDS? Seriously?? Most Americans gain that over Christmas. Jeez.
So, if we’re not supposed to compare, why am I comparing? Because I have a point.🙂 And my point, you ask? My point is this: if you look at pictures in magazines, or online, you can’t really tell what people look like. And you’ve just seen two examples of how different two women REALLY are; not how they look on the red carpet. Images are incredibly deceiving, don’t buy into them. Basing our opinions, of our bodies, of ourselves, on images from US magazine, is just plain ol’ self-destructive.
So, what is the moral of this story? Love your body. Be healthy for your size. And for God’s sake, stop beating yourself up for not looking like Christina Aguilera, and be thankful you look like Christina Hendricks. Be thankful you can walk, and talk, and work. And that you’re capable. And instead of comparing yourself to some crazy standard that isn’t even realistic, why don’t we admire others for what they are? Driven. Dedicated. Passionate. Hard working. Disciplined. Even as a tiny built person, they still have to work hard, watch what they eat, exercise, and get good sleep.
So… STOPPIT!! Get out there and take a walk, drink some water instead of coke, eat a salad instead of fast food. Go to bed at a decent hour and get some sleep. Take care of your body, and your mind, and your Spirit. Let celebrities be celebrities, and you be you. And I’ll be me. All 170 lbs of me.🙂
(next time: fad diets and what a calorie REALLY is)
As I sit here, eating my corned beef on rye and drinking my Diet Coke, I am reading an article on Robyn Lawley. A “plus size model”. Now, something I didn’t know about the “industry”, is that a plus size model is considered different from a plus size woman. It breaks down like this:
– A “normal” woman wears a size US 8 and a normal model wears a US 0-2.
– A “normal” plus size woman is a size US 16 and a normal plus size model is a US 8.
I think this is rubbish, but it is how the “industry” categorizes it. SO, we read “plus size model” and immediately think “she’s a size 8, and that’s plus size!?!?”. The other thing to keep an eye out for is whether or not it is a US size, or a UK size. UK sizes are about double US sizes. i.e. a US size 8 is a UK size 16 (approx).
Things need to change. BUT, until they do, I guess the best thing I can do is be aware and do the conversions in my head and not get all confused about what is real, and what the modeling agencies delusional editors are telling us is “normal”.
ANYWAY, Robyn Lawley. She. Is. GOWJUS! If you haven’t seen her, check her out. She is 6 feet tall!! And she and I have the exact same measurements. 36D-32-42 (granted I’m only 5’8″) Looking at her I seriously had to take a moment… that CANNOT be what my 31 year old body looks like… I sort of envision my body to look more like… Will Farrel.😉
Jennifer Lopez is 5’6″ and her measurements are (before twins) 34C-26-40 and (after twins) 34C-26-38.
I think women compare themselves to figures like this, not Robyn, and they don’t realize A. height and B. that working out for 3 hours a day is part of her occupation. I mean, hell, if I got paid to work out 3 hours a day as opposed to having to pay for a gym membership and find the time before or after work? I’d probably be a little more willing. I’ll give an hour. Max. Not to mention, she has cooks.
I wonder if Jennifer Lopez, or Paris Hilton, or Angelina Jolie enjoy eating? Like, actually close their eyes at some point (usually the first bite) and just feel the texture of the sauce and their steak on their tongue. Do they eat steak? Or sauce? I’m not sure that’s something I want to give up. I had THE best Italian on Wed. for my birthday and for dessert, we got cappuccino’s and cheesecake. And this cheesecake, this was not normal cheesecake. It was not a triangle, and it was not processed. It was HEAVENLY. My husband sat and smiled at me as I melted along with the bite in my mouth. I wonder if Brad Pitt ever gets to look at Angelina like that, or does he watch her crunch away on a celery stick.🙂
I’ll take the cheesecake.🙂
Body dysmorphic disorder (BDD) (previously known as dysmorphophobia is sometimes referred to as body dysmorphia or dysmorphic syndrome) is a (psychological) somatoform disorder in which the affected person is excessively concerned about and preoccupied by a perceived defect in his or her physical features (body image).
The sufferer may complain of several specific features or a single feature, or a vague feature or general appearance, causing psychological distress that impairs occupational and/or social functioning, sometimes to the point of severe depression and anxiety, development of other anxiety disorders, social withdrawal or complete social isolation, and more. It is estimated that 1–2% of the world’s population meet all the diagnostic criteria for BDD (Psychological Medicine, vol. 36, p. 877).This is something I’ve been dealing with for nearly 8 years now. I saw a break in it while I was working at Heifer International in Perryville, AR with the livestock crew. You don’t really think too much about appearance when you’re covered in poop most of the time.🙂 And you’re fit; you run constantly, you’re lifting heavy feedbags and animals. You have to eat to live. Since leaving Heifer, it’s been a struggle. It started affecting me worse and worse after I picked up my wedding dress and we got pictures of me in it. Then I saw my wedding photos – and realized how much bigger I had gotten. Yeah – we could zip the dress up, but you can close up a 25 lbs burlap sack with 40 lbs of fat in it… but that doesn’t mean it looks good.😉 It didn’t look how it did when I was smaller and stronger. And so the cycle continues…. Women nowadays (and men too) are BOMBARDED with images and expectations of the “perfect” body. The perfect skin. the perfect legs and boobs and stomach. If you don’t look like Jennifer Lopez, SJP, or Angelina Jolie then you just need to work out harder! Eat less! Be more disciplined you fat cow! And men? They’re supposed to look like cologne ads. So, this is my journey with BDD (and a little about Asperger’s). Hopefully it will help you see yourself as beautiful. Maybe it will help you realize you are not alone, and there are others fighting the same battles with image. Hopefully, it will even change your life. xx
It has been around 19 days since my last post. So much and so little has happened.🙂 And yes, I’m still crazy.
The West Memphis Three (WM3) are appearing before the Arkansas Supreme Court today to appeal for a new trial based on DNA evidence. There’s so much new evidence that wasn’t available back then, I hope that the AR SC will do the right thing and grant the trial. If they don’t, it’s simply because they’re trying to save their own asses. So many people were elected and promoted based on the original trial, and the publicity surrounding it – and it’s all a crock of shit.
It is absolutely terrifying to think that 3 boys were convicted of killing three other innocent boys, simply because they listened to Metallica, wore black and skipped school.
Some folks still think Echols and the others committed the crimes. It’s OBVIOUS that they did not – and they have spent 17 years of their lives behind bars for something they didn’t do. And it makes you wonder: if 3 innocent, underage boys, could get life and the death penalty for not doing anything… what would it take for one of us to receive the same treatment? I mean, wrong place – wrong time seems to be all “they” need! So, before we start saying “this has nothing to do with me, why should I get involved” – think about if it was you. In their shoes. Like Paul, what if you were wrongfully imprisoned; wouldn’t you want people on your behalf? Wouldn’t you want to not be alone? Wouldn’t you want people fighting for your freedom?
I will also add, the parents of the murdered children, do not believe Damian, Jason or Jesse committed these crimes. For the parents who lost their sons entirely too early in life, to show mercy and forgiveness and to let go of the false accusations – that shows not only character, but the validity of the denial’s from the WM3.
GET INVOLVED. There are petitions, there are groups that are fighting for them, there are fundraisers. Be proactive and let these men live the rest of their natural life as free men. Because that’s what they should be.
WM3 official website: http://www.wm3.org/
THV’s news coverage: http://www.todaysthv.com/news/news.aspx?storyid=94510
YouTube (many choices to watch – HBO did a special title Paradise Lost – watch it):
To the people who are too ignorant to know better, and think they’re guilty, SHUT UP. It hurts my brain to hear your ignorant, uneducated babble and rantings about something your 3rd grade education obviously won’t allow you to comprehend. Quit spreading your ignorance.
“Photograph from September 11”:
They jumped from the burning floors —
one, two, a few more,
The photograph halted them in life,
and now keeps them
above the earth toward the earth.
Each is still complete,
with a particular face
and blood well hidden.
There’s enough time
for hair to come loose,
for keys and coins
to fall from pockets.
They’re still within the air’s reach,
within the compass of places
that have just now opened.
I can do only two things for them —
describe this flight
and not add a last line.
Can you believe it’s been 9 years? The moments we think “I will never recover”, suddenly, it has been nearly a decade. The loss of a sibling or lover, a fire devouring your life in a matter of minutes, or the use of humans in a flying tube as a destructive force against a sky-scraper – no matter the tragedy, life moves on. We move on. We become stronger and weaker. We become whole, and we lose a part of ourselves; never to be recovered. We grab life by the lapel and say “C’mon, lets go!”. And we also hide away in our homes, afraid to come out. We want a revolution! And yet we want Peace and quiet and to enjoy sitting in a field. The emotions are contradictory, the feelings are skewed. But overall, most of us are thankful. Thankful for life, thankful for family, thankful for freedoms that we take for granted.
Thank you for reading. Enjoy the poem above that was written the week after 9/11. Enjoy your weekend that our men and women of the armed forces are protecting, and be thankful for the courage that the American people show everyday to LIVE and move forward in Love.
(Where was I when it happened? Standing in the kitchen of Higher Grounds, downtown Russellville, working with Jonna Holder and my mom. A customer, Ricky, came in from the other room and said “Hey y’all, I just got a text saying someone bombed one of the world trade towers” – we turned on the radio and tried to find a station that was reporting on what was happening. We closed for the rest of the day. I didn’t have cable, so I went to a friends and we watched it unfold. I will never forget the way the sun was coming in the front windows as Ricky said those words; or how it smelled outside when we left the building.)
Habakkuk 3:16-18 (New International Version)
16 I heard and my heart pounded, my lips quivered at the sound; decay crept into my bones, and my legs trembled. Yet I will wait patiently for the day of calamity to come on the nation invading us. 17 Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, 18 yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Savior.
So, I haven’t written in the last week… cause man I was in a BAD MOOD! I did not want to be cranky and drag others down with me, so I just stayed away. Why is this crankiness here? Eh, most of it is not worth mentioning and is beyond my control. The scripture above snapped me out of it. Well, that and the letter I got (can I just say I love snail mail?!) from my sweetie who is deployed.
Basically, Habakkuk is saying that even when (in plain English/America) gas prices are sky high, work is scarce, family is being a pain in your ass and you are too tired to clean – I will not just STILL rejoice anyway, but I will rejoice BECAUSE it is happening! Because these are the things that grow me. Like a Portulaca – even in the raging heat, it flowers. It actually grows more.
So, how am I growing – honestly (and NEVER, EVER ask for this) in patience and resilience. Getting out of bed and working out anyway. Washing my hair even when all I wanna do is lay in bed. Working, and having a good attitude, even when I’m tired. And being nice – even when all I wanna do is pick a fight with my sweetie. Which, if we’re being honest here, I have done this week. And Lord! That good man of mine responded better than I was acting. K is teaching me a lot, and growing me a lot – teaching me to be a better woman, and person. His patience with me is astounding. I adore him.
So, tomorrow is the big bash. Michelle Malone is playing, and we’re getting ready.🙂 Fencing, bushoggin’, decorating. Long day – starting with a breakfast with one of my dearest friends: Tammy. I am still a bit cranky. I am still frustrated with the things beyond my control. But, I am gonna drink my can of Act Right and get up in the morning, put a smile on my face and Thank God for one more day on this beautiful, glorious earth with the people I love. I have made it past the 27 club – something Caleb and I strove for. I wish he was here with me, but he’s not. So I gotta live 2 lifetimes in one, right? Here’s to tomorrow – and it being a better day.
And I didn’t die. Or have to buy a walker.🙂 I actually was surrounded by some of the most precious people to my heart.
So, I got to thinking about the abundance in my life. The joys and sorrows of the past year, the ups and downs, the overwhelming lows and the incredible highs. From losing my brother, to falling in/choosing to love – it has been one helluva year. So, what could be in store over the next year??? I am too excited to even think of the possibilities!! I mean, even if NOTHING spectacular happens – and it’s just a good year – isn’t that in and of itself SOMETHING?!
I’ve decided to write about it. I’m not that eloquent, and as my friend Jarrett says: I “cuss like a sailor”. But, I’m not very good at scrapbooking (I get distracted by all the pretty pictures and make no progress!), so this is going to be my scrap book. I don’t know if it will be good or bad, or even if people will read it – but after a year – I will have cataloged my life for 365 days. (disclaimer: I am a busy girl, and will probably NOT write every day… but will get close. ;))
So, what has the first few days of my 30th year been like? Insanity.🙂 I started it off with a bang, and had a wonderful time with friends and family over a sushi dinner. I was given the most beautiful fork bracelet from a friend, and also made by a friend. Interestingly enough, the friend who made it (Micah), I met at the Brewery in Blue Ridge, GA – and then my boss, Gail, began dating a man named John (several months later). John happens to know Micah, and has for most of Micah’s life! I think it is amazing how God brings people in and out of our lives so fluidly – and we have no idea. And Micah, incidentally, made my engagement ring.🙂 Is that serendipity? If not, that’s what it should be called.😉
I was also given a glass chicken, which made me cry. I love it. It matches my cow painting PERFECTLY. I then got to talk to my sweetie – which was an amazing conversation. I have never been loved this well. He is incredible, and a huge gift in my life. I can’t believe I get to keep him!🙂
I then went to haul hay – which didn’t happen due to weather. So, we went back today for round 2. And, since I was early, I helped the folks in front of me as they didn’t have a third person. They got 60 bales, and then we got 150. Then unloaded them (and I must say I did a pretty dang good job backing the trailer up), fed horses, and worked most of the night. Tomorrow, I get to see my mama and pops!🙂 Celebrate a little more life, and get adjusted by my chiro cause my back is screamin’ for it!🙂
It may sound silly, but hauling hay makes me feel alive. And both days leaving the field in the afternoon, there is a pasture that the owners turn their Hereford’s into – and I got to drive slow past them and watch them graze. And this pasture is just past the small herd of Brahman’s. It may not sound like much, but it makes my whole week. It’s the simple things: Gluten free birthday cake, hugs, cows, hay, friends, love. Sometimes they’re not easy, but they’re pretty simple.
So, happy birthday to me.🙂 And may my posts get more interesting.;) lol
And I’m not talking about silly movies (Pineapple Express) or Comedy Central – I’m talking about giggling because the brownie batter is just too good. I’m talking about being vulnerable to life, to the people around you. To letting it in. Have you ever noticed that movies are made and the “morale or the story” at the end is “live life. Quit working so much. Love and enjoy the people around you. Laugh.”? And we pay $12 plus $10 for candy and a coke to go see this, feel inspired and want that for our life, and then the next morning – we hit up Starbucks, sit in traffic and head to the job we spend too much time at and that feeling of inspiration diminishes just a little. And by the weekend – it’s gone. There is a reason these movies work! Why people love them! It’s because it’s what our heart seeks – it’s what Joy is made of. It’s the ooey gooey stuff that is in the middle of the morsel that is Joy – and it comes in all KINDS of flavors! So what is mine? Strawberry – Vanilla – Nugget – Coconut? I think mine is caramel. Golden, luscious, and sweet to the tongue. The way chickens chase a grasshopper, with their saggy bottom feathers looking cute; when your hair has JUST the right amount of curl, when your bf lets you put your head on his shoulder because you’re crying about something others would consider silly – and doesn’t make you feel stupid because you feel everything. GOLDEN. LUSCIOUS. SWEET. Don’t blink through this life. Don’t take your life for granted, and don’t feel guilty cause you take time off of work. Enjoy the tasty morsels of life. Let it melt on your tongue. Love freely – when you’re full of love, even when you get hurt, you heal quicker because you are just surrounded by it. There should be squealing and food and laughter and hope and stargazing and tree climbing and smelling fresh cut grass and afternoon naps and tenderness and transparency and wearing skirts and letting butter melt on your tongue and getting your hands dirty.🙂 Forest was right – life is a box of chocolates! GOLDEN. LUSCIOUS. SWEET.