My Two Cents

I am going to be bold and assert that most people, at one time or another in their lives, have had issues with body image. Comparing ourselves to others and the images society portrays as "perfection" can be wearing. Airbrushed models on the covers of magazines, on billboards and commercials bombard us with pictures of  beautiful men and women equipped with bodies to envy. The average measurements for a model are 34-24-34 (bust-waist-hips), with a height range of 5'9"-5'11". Very rarely is this body found on the "average" person, so why are we so inclined to compare ourselves with this standard? And what exactly is "average" anyway? What is healthy?

Since we're talking measurements, I'll throw mine out there; I am just under 6'0", with measurements at 35-30-36 with a weight of 160. I am healthily proportioned, and for the first time in my life, proud and happy with how my body looks and feels. It's not always been that way though. Like I said in a previous post, I never hated myself for how I looked, but was never thrilled either. I wanted to be pretty like one of those unattainably beautiful models. It took me a very long time to understand that the girls I saw in magazines are built much differently than I am, and their bodies will never be mine. A rough realization, yes, but a necessary and healthy one anyway. No matter how upset I was about how my body looked, the truth remained that I longed after an untrue image of perfection. How many people out there take that one step further? We so desire acceptance - both outward and inward - some of us will stop at nothing to achieve such results.  Eating disorders are developed. Positive body image and self-esteem are destroyed. 

Puberty is a critical time in a person's life. A teenager's body is going through unequivocal amounts of change, and during this time, they are desperately sleuthing for acceptance. Some of us grew three inches over one summer, some kept the baby fat until after graduation. Girls may want to be thinner or have bigger boobs, some dudes think their muscles need to be bigger. Our bodies change at such different rates, so it's unfair to compare one to another. But it happens as we become cognizant of how we look, and how we want to look in comparison. Luckily, some of us take this comparison with a grain of salt and grow out of the "I Want to Look Like That Stage", some are not so lucky. 

I knew girls that I was on sports teams with that had eating disorders. It was incredibly sad to watch. I would watch "just five pounds" turn into fifteen with a benign comment from a coach about how their performance had improved. Or how they would get noticed by more boys as they dropped more weight. Sometimes they would eat hardly anything at all, sometimes they would vomit their meals up so it was harder for others to catch on. In other cases still, "skinny" and "thin" would never be enough. They would still see impossible amounts of fat on their bodies and be desperate for it to vanish. How sad for these beautiful girls.

For those that aren't aware, there are several types of eating disorders. Anorexia and bulimia are the two major ones. Anorexia is the primary eating disorder associated with food restriction and self-starvation. It is characterized by an intense fear of gaining weight or becoming overweight and refusal to maintain body weight at or above a minimally normal weight for age and height. Bulimia is an eating disorder where the sufferer will binge eat, then forcibly vomit in order to not absorb the calories ingested. It is characterized by eating a large amount of food in a short amount of time, typically in times of emotional distress or depression. 

On the opposite end of the spectrum, I think it is equally as maddening to see the acceptance of obesity in this country. How is it any more acceptable for people to be walking around fifty pounds overweight, than a woman starving herself to feel accepted, or for a guy to be taking steroids to look more muscular? I'm all for acceptance, and loving who you are in your own skin, but how is society so skewed in what we view to be healthy? How did we get this way? 

Society is so fast these days - it is acceptable to eat fast food multiple times throughout the course of a week. We hardly get any exercise. As a society, we are pushed to work sometimes more than forty hours in a week to make ends meet for ourselves and our families. We are tired, so a sedentary lifestyle takes precedence over an active one. But how, pray-tell, is this accepted as an excuse? How is it okay that reports from The CDC (Centers for Disease Control) read that more than 60% of adults are overweight, with one in three people being obese? Child obesity is a growing epidemic. Over the last 20 years, statistics have shown that the number of obese children has tripled in the last 20 years. These children are more susceptible to Type-II diabetes. Heart disease, bone and joint deterioration, sleep apnea, and depression are just a few side effects of obesity. Wouldn't it be much easier to take care of oneself before it resulted in one of those things? Instead of having to undergo a triple bypass operation because of a couple clogged tubes, can't we take 30 minutes and walk? Or run? Or hoola-hoop? I guess priorities will always reign, but let's examine ours. 

A personal interjection: 

The 35 pounds that I have dropped has raised questions of concern for people closest to me. I understand why. I look a lot different than I did before my weight-loss venture. I have definition in my cheeks, I have a definitive jawline, my waist is more visible, I have way more visible muscle tone than I ever have. While I appreciate the concern for my health, I have been assuring and reassuring that I am doing nothing to cheat my body of health. No part of me wants to deal with those repercussions. I think it is unfortunate that we automatically jump to conclusions that drastic weight loss must be associated with something negative like weight-loss pills or illness or imbalanced eating habits/unhealthy mindset. It absolutely does not have to be this way, but that's the direction society has chosen to take us. Down the easy road, isn't that right? Whatever the quickest fix is, let me at it. 

My hope is this for the people in my life: that they'll care enough about themselves now to stick around for later. Let's not allow the busyness of our lives be an excuse for an unhealthy today. Let's also understand the importance of the need for balance in our lives, and not allowing society to make any sort of decisions for us, but making mindful decisions for ourselves. Have the motivation enough to put down that remote and bag of chips and make smart and healthy decisions. Regain control of your life, let no one tell you, subliminally or outright, what is healthy. Preserve your body, it's the only one you have!

Dear Girlfriend

Dear civilian girlfriend/fiancé/wife,
I mean no disrespect by this letter, I'm just having a hard day and want to bitch. I'm jealous and bitter at the fact that you get to spend every minute with your man if you want to. I hate looking over and seeing you two in the grocery store arguing over getting boneless or bone-in chicken for dinner. I also hate seeing you two cuddling in the movie theater. Don't even get me started on you complaining that it's "been two days since I've seen him". Do you know how long it's been since I've even been in the same country as my boyfriend? I'll oblige you by telling you the truth. It's been nine months. Almost a year since I've kissed him. Seen his eyes. Held his hand. Smelled his stinky morning breath. Gotten cranky over mundane household duties. Seeing you two in the grocery store arguing over poultry makes me want to throw it at you two. Get a room.

I recognize my free-will in the choices that I make in all aspects of my life. I have chosen to enter into a relationship with someone in the military, and that requires of me some different things than you are accustomed to in your relationship. I have chosen to stay with my boyfriend even though he has been forthright in telling me that he will be overseas for three years. I was not tricked into this long-term, long-distance relationship. I know exactly what I have gotten myself into, and also what is expected of me. I don't think any of these expectations are unrealistic, as this is the "norm" I have chosen to accept as a military girlfriend. With this as my new standard of "normal", I have also come to terms with the sacrifices that need to be made, and equipped with the knowledge that even though there are thousands upon thousands of miles between us, we are never separate. And I also realize that it's hard to understand and empathize with how I'm feeling today, because you don't know what this situation is like.

But please, do me a favor, and make the absolute most out of everything when you're with him. Appreciate the mundane. The bickering over chicken. I miss that. I miss stinky morning breath. Tell him you love him like you won't see him tomorrow. Make him sweets and lasagna and steak and pie for no reason. And boys, buy her flowers and a card because you think she's cute when she's in her sweats. Even when you fight, take a minute to think about all the reasons you love that person, and tell them. Savor those smooches. Count and name all their smiles - you know, the one where they know you think you're being funny, but that joke you told was really stupid. And the one where you burned dinner and you're all upset, but it's okay because you can order pizza. I miss driving with him, hearing him sing in silly voices. Feeling rushed because I know I'm making us late by changing my outfit 34 times, knowing that we're just going to the movies. Take note of these things and put into perspective how important the small things are.

We'll get our time to be the annoying grocery store couple. It's a long way off, but we'll be deserving of it. But take this letter not in offense, but as a porthole into my life. I am indeed a military girlfriend, and a proud wearer of that title. It's the hardest job I've ever had, but by far the most rewarding. And when I write you angry letters like this or throw frozen food at you and your dude, know that under that awesomely strong pitch is a girl that misses her man, who longs for you to understand the importance of appreciating your significant other.

Get off the computer and go hug, text, smooch, or snuggle your honey. And think of me. Well, maybe not. That's a smidge creepy. But think about what I said at least, and whisper a little encouragement and love to us military gals. At one point or another, we're all gunna need it. :)

You rock for putting up with my grumpiness, and thanks for reading.

Love,
Jen
Your Local (or not so much) Military GF

I love me!

My day consisted of a cardio workout, homemade jalapeño turkey burgers and zucchini, and an epic trip to Barnes & Noble. Epic only because I was there for three hours. Who does that? I do, and proudly, bitches. This post is going to consist of me tooting my own horn, largely because I deserve it. I've done a lot of growing up in the last 8 months, and I am going to publicly pat myself on the back. If that's obnoxious to you, I'm sure you know how to close the browser. And maybe after doing so, you can figure out how important it is to recognize yourself in your accomplishments. Self-recognition in moderation is not synonymous with arrogance, mind you. But if you can appreciate my need to publicly praise my fantastic and motivated self, then read on, fearless readers, read on.

Let's start with July of 2009 for some back-story. My wonderful boyfriend had just come home from a six month deployment. It was a rough one - we weren't together for the majority of it because I was with someone else, but still "talking" to him. I lied, I was selfish, and I put him through the ringer, to make a long and hurtful story short. But we wound up together and that's what counts. For the first time in the 2 years we had been friends, we finally finally got to be together. It was absolute bliss. Our love was unrequited for as long as we knew each other, but finally, we were allowed to publicly be Jen and Brian. A few weeks into our fabulous coupledom, he informed me that he'd be leaving again soon. I thought, "Sure! Okay, another six months? No problem!" Laughable, really. When he told me how long he'd be gone, I was crushed. He was obviously terrified to tell me, afraid I'd leave. But I was helplessly in love with him. His mere physical absence was more the lesser of the two evils - my other option was cutting him out of my life completely. Too quickly, dates materialized. It was getting real now.

With January 6th quickly approaching, I had to prep myself for one of the hardest days I had to ever face. My boyfriend/best friend was set to leave for school to train for his new job in the Marines. I had accepted that he was going to be gone for a total of three years - the majority of which we would not be together. Again, I loved him too much to let this God-forsaken separation come between us. How do you get ready to kiss them for the last time? How do you tell yourself that this your new "normal"? Well, January 6th came. I cried. It was messy. But you know? I'm alive. Our relationship is stronger than I ever thought it had the capacity to be. We've got 2 1/2 years left of this thing, but we're doing well, and I have faith in our bond.

Here's where I start tooting my horn. I really thought I was going to be an inconsolable mess for weeks after he left. There were a couple horrible days following his leaving, and those still pop up every once in a while. But guess what! I'm a normal, functioning, non-blubbering woman for the majority of the time. It was hard as hell though to not turn into this horribly bitter hag once he left, however. That's not to say that I haven't had those hag-days too. But I've harnessed this inner hag, thank you very kindly. She's tucked away, satiated with the knowledge that three years isn't forever, and that even though the distance that separates Brian and I is very real, it can be cultivated into something strong and wonderful. Suck it, miles.

So what to do with all this spare time? Not sit at home, that's for DAMN sure. Idleness breeds negativity. No thank you, I need no help with that. What better activity to become obsessed with than going to the gym? I had no preconceived intentions of going to the gym or loosing weight, but I went one day right after he left and I was hooked like a bass on a weighted and baited line. I quickly lost 10 pounds, which upped my motivation levels. Altogether, I've lost 35 pounds. I eat better, I feel better, I look better. It's a great time suck, too; working out keeps me busy, and it's productive. 

Then there are the small personal victories that I never thought about wanting to change. I started saving money for the first time in my 24 years of existence. This actually is not a small feat. I have never had the willpower or drive enough to do it. But now I do, and I was able to save enough to go halfies for my plane fare to visit Brian in Switzerland.

I also stopped biting my nails. Gross habit that I've had my whole life. But I wanted my nails to look good for my visit. Now they all have white tips and make that cool "tink tink" noise when I type or tap my fingers against the table. Pretty nails, for the win!

Yeah, being away from the love of my life is hard. But you know, while the love I have for that boy is unyielding, I'm finding that I love myself too, and that is of utmost importance. I was never one of those self-loathing youths, but I never put self-care at the top of my priority list either. It is now. I realize now, too, that no one is going to have to the know-how to love you like you need to be loved like you. Read that impossible sentence again if necessary, friend. It was a poorly constructed one, but it's late and I have not the patience to restructure it. Anyway, suffice it to say that if I love me, I can better love him.

I've never been so proud of myself for accomplishing as much as I have. I'm a strong woman, and I am not merely surviving and trudging through what I have to in order to get what I want in the long term, but I'm actually thriving. I'm lucky that I know what it is that I want, and that I have the goals and the drive and also a wonderfully supportive partner to help me achieve them. No proverbial earthquake or tidal wave or hurricane can shake this broad. My foundation is becoming solid, and I'm proud as hell of myself for withstanding and prevailing over the things I have thus far. 

Thank you for listening to my shameless and prideful rant. I am now finished, and thoroughly exhausted. Horn-tooting is serious business, and wears one thin. I must refuel. Goodnight, rant-readers.