Fashionable

This is going to be one awful, ugly, truthful post.  Because it needs to be said.

Ugh.  This morning I was getting dressed – – or trying to – – because I was actually leaving the house and going someplace other than the grocery store, library, and preschool.  I was going on a playdate with my friend and her daughter. 

As I was rummaging through my meager closet, my mind started wandering back to the day before I was married – before I had kids – before life sort of took me over – – – I used to be fashionable.  Stop laughing.  Seriously.  You’re making a fool of yourself now.

It’s true.  I did use to be fashionable.  I would go to the mall and spend hours picking out the latest fashions – even before my other friends were wearing them.  I still remember the awesome black and white stripe bell bottom pants I wore to work with these even more awesome black platform sandals.  I was young, I was hot, and I was happening.

I would shop at stores like American Eagle, Express, and Limited.  I wouldn’t think twice about dropping $175 – $200 on an outfit from head to toe. 

Fast forward 18 years, 1 marriage, 3 kids, and we won’t mention how many pounds and the clothes in my closet consists of sweatpants – mostly gray, some sweatshirts, and lots of t-shirts.  I have one pair of jeans that don’t even fit me well and a few skirts for church. 

Once I used to love getting dressed and now I absolutely can’t stand it.  I despise trying to find clothing to cover bulges and bags.  I get disgusted with myself and try to avoid mirrors at all costs. 

Why do I torture myself like this?  Of course I want that young, hot body back again, but pretty sure it’s not going to come back like it was before.  It’s kind of like a tough and hard message from God – there are no rewinds in life.  If I could rewind I would have put the doughnut down for goodness sake.  I wouldn’t have indulged as much.  Is there a way to fix it?  Of course.  Do I have the willpower?  Not by myself.  Do I even want to?  Until this moment – not so much.  This morning kind of sparked it for me.  I’m tired – no, make that FED UP – with how I look and feel.  NO MORE.  It ends today.  No more excuses – no more waiting for tomorrow – no more waiting for the magic pill to take it all away. 

One day I will be older and I will look back at myself at this age and I don’t want to say “I wish I would have looked after myself better at 36.”  I don’t want regrets.  I want to look back and say, “36 was a turning point for me.  It was the time I decided that I was worth it.  That I was a child of God and that He created me and look what I did with the gift he gave me – my body.  I chose the path of healthy living and treated my body like I was someone special.  Like I was a princess of the Most High. 

Today it stops.  No.  Today it BEGINS.  A feeling of self-worth.  A feeling of joy.