There's "Side Boob", There's "Underboob", and Then There's Just "Whole Lotta Boob"

Recently I jokingly promised a friend that I would [try to] title a blog post “There's 'Side Boob', There's 'Underboob', and Then There's Just 'Whole Lotta Boob'”. So here you have that post, although I can’t claim it has anything to do with breasts, per se…or that it doesn’t. Read on and judge for yourself.

Yesterday while scrolling through Netflix, I randomly clicked on the documentary Embrace. It was “recommended” for me and I have no idea what I’ve watched recently that called it up unless the Netflix Gremlins were reading my mind and know how I struggle all the time. Yeah. It was probably the Gremlins. Nasty little buggers.

Embrace is about body imagine and all the things we are told we “should” do or be. How our bodies are “supposed” to look (it’s primarily focused on women, but men obviously deal with this as well) based on what the so-called “experts” (or nasty critics) will say.

I’ve chronicled many times my issues with weight and my body and appearance. Some days are better and then some days...not so much. It’s been over 30 years in some cases, but I remember being called fat and ugly by kids in school. I can still name names, for crying out loud! That’s how much it stuck with me. Sadly.

I loved my mother, but she wasn’t a help in that respect. In my lifetime, she was pretty much always fighting extra pounds. She kept saying I’d grow up to be Miss America. Ummm...yeah. Not likely. My parents never encouraged me to go out and be active or to join a club or sports team at school as a way to be healthy. I’m not sure it even occurred to them. I just remember how trying to eat less and being hungry or drinking Slim Fast shakes seemed like the way you were supposed to lose weight, but there was nothing healthy about that. Nothing at all.

If it seems like I’m a bit body-obsessed (with mine, not yours, although I’m sure yours is very nice), then I am. I know I am and I hate it, but at this point in life I’m not sure I’m ever going to truly be able to shake it. Hopefully though I’m getting better at adapting and not beating myself up all the time.

Chatting with a friend recently, we were discussing different ideas about the best ways to eat for a healthy body and how some things work for one person, but not for another. I said that for me, I guess I just want to have a better relationship with food overall. One in which I stop calling any of it "bad" and eliminating guilt over eating desserts and the like now and then. Food shouldn’t be labeled “good” or “bad”. It should just be food. Food that fuels our bodies and doesn’t torture our spirits quite so much. And sometimes, y’know, comes covered in buttercream frosting...if we’re lucky.

I've never had anything resembling a healthy relationship with my body until maybe last couple of years. It might still be rather warped and twisted, but I’ll be a work-in-progress until I die, so I’m ok with that.

Losing 40 pounds in 2015 made a big difference in my outlook. I don't like equating my happiness with a lower weight, but I *am* happier being at a lower weight and being more active. Period. If part of that happiness comes from seeing a smaller number on the scale, then so be it. I refuse to make myself feel bad for being proud and happy about it (not that anyone has asked me to, mind you).

Then last year I suddenly had to start to know WAY more about my body than I had before. Having to do all the pelvic health physical therapy helped me a lot. I haven’t had the luxury of not thinking about my body and how it functions (or doesn’t function). It’s not as if we all go through life in our bodies and don’t think about them, of course. I mean, we live in them and we’re the first ones to know if there is a problem. But I’ve spent more time understanding and getting to know my body than I might have otherwise and that’s a good thing.

And *whispering…for some strange reason* I was willing to let a man see me naked for the first time in a looong time. Much as I may regret saying it publicly, that also played a part in that body confidence (when I have it…which isn’t all the time, I assure you). That guy made me feel good about my body and gave me a confidence boost when I really needed it. If for no other reason than that, I'm glad he came along.

After all that, guess what?  I finally started to like my body, just as it is. I mean, really, truly like and appreciate it.

Sure, I could be skinnier or not as squishy in places, but my body is also pretty amazing. Plus I've got that "whole lotta boob" from the title and I think they are pretty amazing too, ole Zsa Zsa and Eva. Hey, they're mine and they're real, so I'm gonna go with it (and vow to do my level best to never, ever show either side boob or underboob in a public place). And every now and then, I have this sneaking suspicion that there may be a woman out there, somewhere who looks at me and actually wishes she had MY body.

Wow. Mind blown, but hey, it could be true!

So, I hesitate in trying to change my relationship with food in a bigger way than I already am (trying to eat healthier food with consistency and not beating myself up if I fail sometimes) because I’m doing well right now overall. At least for today. I’ll take it and run with that. One day at a time.