Looking in the Mirror

If you have been reading my posts on health, you will remember the post about my anorexia.  For most of my life, I have had problems with my body image.  Over the last several years, as I gained a few pounds and gotten older, I looked less and less at myself in the mirror.  I had a hard time accepting myself and my body’s appearance.  I did not like what I saw, so I quit looking.  Now, don’t get me wrong–I looked in the mirror to make sure I was dressed appropriately and to put on makeup and to fix my hair–but I didn’t LOOK in the mirror at myself.

As I was getting ready to shower the other morning, I saw myself in the mirror.  I actually looked at myself.  This time I did not see the fat, the stretch marks, the wrinkles, or the gray hair.  Looking back at me was a forty-six year old woman who looks really good for her age and everything else she has been through.  (I do not say that out of conceit.)

I had always seen just those imperfections, never my whole self.

I earned all these things through what I have been through in my life.  The extra weight is a reminder that while I cared for my dying grandfather, I would fix meals and eat with him, then go home and eat a second dinner with my family.  Two dinners every day with an occasional milkshake thrown in will put some weight on anyone.  The stretch marks are a reminder that I carried and birthed three beautiful, wonderful children.  When I was pregnant with my oldest child, I had complications and was on bed rest. Then I proceeded to retain fluid.  The wrinkles are a reminder that I work outdoors on a farm side-by-side with my husband.  The gray hair is–well, I don’t know what that is all about!  Some say it is from stress.  Some say it is a sign of wisdom.  All I have to ask is, “Why?”


Accepting Myself

I eat rather healthy and take care of myself, mostly.  Sure, I would like to lose a few pounds and I might color my hair sometime, but this is me.  I am forty-six years old and I have accomplished and struggled through so much.  Finally, I can accept my physical self.

God accepts us the way we are.  Why can we not accept ourselves?

How can you begin accepting your physical self?

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