Most of the time, when I look at photos of actresses in glamorous gowns, all I can think of is, “That woman needs a good burger. And fries. And a chocolate milkshake.” Why do I think of them at all? Because it strikes me as so bizarre that these young women who have tons of money, who could buy anything they want in terms of food and enjoyments, look like they are starving. What gets me is how normal women with flesh on their bones are characterized: ‘butterbodies’. As if that’s a bad thing. Just think of butter – meltingly salty-sweet, soft, creamy, luscious on the tongue. Makes everything taste better.
When a photog catches a shot of ‘side-boob’, there is great excitement in the gossip magazines because so few of the starlets have any boobs at all. At least not ones that aren’t made out of some plastic. Is it the ‘green-eyed monster’ in me being envious? No. Absolutely not. I ask Hub from time to time if that’s what he’d like me to look like. His answer has always been, “Like what? Those stick women?” For which I love him dearly. He says men do not find it comfortable holding a woman who might break under their touch or who can’t lift a box of hard cover books or a 10 kilo bag of de-icing salt.
Wow. One of the principles of some weight loss regimens is that you take a photo of yourself in your underwear. Study your folds and flab and sags. Vow to rid your body of them. I look at my body every morning when I get out of the shower. Yeah, I don’t like the muffin top. The boobs I can tighten up with a lot of upper body exercise. My butt will shrink some as I drop poundage and walk more. But honestly, I don’t dislike my body. The shape is more or less hourglass (with a bit more sand in the bottom than the top, but that’s a genetic and age-related thing). Hub loves my body. So do I. I’m just working to have a bit less of it to carry around.
I’m much more mindful about what I put in my mouth, and how much. I eat more slowly, to make it last. But I’m not getting rid of the ‘butter’.