You know it is true what they say ,.. The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence... Road...river... State border ... Continent ... Head (I rock the white girl Afro and will never be the I woke up like this model, just sayin').
We, as humans, have an innate need to have what others have. To envy them, for their belongings, home, job, appearance. Why is that? Is it so hard to be happy with what we have?
I write this as I am finishing a strict two day liquid cleanse as part of a 30 day overhaul of my nutritional habits. This two day cleanse had me taking in less than 400 calories a day. I sit hear listening to my stomach rumble for the second time of the day, after putting down a book that outlines in great detail the numerous decadent food options in Paris. Let me just tell you that, yes, it is absolutely possible and appropriate to have a love affair with a pastry as this particular book claims. But that is a story for another day.
As I sit here feeling my body rid itself of toxins and excess fat (okay, I wish I could feel it ...), I found myself thinking:
Damn, my thighs are huge. They are like two elephants wrestling for control of the nonexistent thigh gap.
When did my arms get so flabby? I work out at hours of the morning that shouldn't exist. They should be offering up tickets to the gun show by now.
Why do my calves look like they swallowed a grapefruit? When did they get that big and how do I make it stop? Boot season is upon us and I need to be able to zip them up!
I find myself looking at the crazy thin models and other role models of "beauty" and wishing that I could look like them. Shorter. Skinnier. Perfect hair. Perfect white teeth. Amazing wardrobe.
And then I scold myself because I know that my body is MINE. It doesn't belong to anybody else and nobody else can ridicule it without my direct consent. In fact, there are a lot of people in this world who would love to be my "size" even as I envy others. They want my unruly, curly hair. They would love to be my pant size. And they would even love to be as tall as I am (careful with that one ladies, it's hard to wear heels).
I can't help but ask myself: when do we, as a human race, stop paying attention to the neighbor's yard and start to notice just how green ours is?
We, as humans, have an innate need to have what others have. To envy them, for their belongings, home, job, appearance. Why is that? Is it so hard to be happy with what we have?
I write this as I am finishing a strict two day liquid cleanse as part of a 30 day overhaul of my nutritional habits. This two day cleanse had me taking in less than 400 calories a day. I sit hear listening to my stomach rumble for the second time of the day, after putting down a book that outlines in great detail the numerous decadent food options in Paris. Let me just tell you that, yes, it is absolutely possible and appropriate to have a love affair with a pastry as this particular book claims. But that is a story for another day.
As I sit here feeling my body rid itself of toxins and excess fat (okay, I wish I could feel it ...), I found myself thinking:
Damn, my thighs are huge. They are like two elephants wrestling for control of the nonexistent thigh gap.
When did my arms get so flabby? I work out at hours of the morning that shouldn't exist. They should be offering up tickets to the gun show by now.
Why do my calves look like they swallowed a grapefruit? When did they get that big and how do I make it stop? Boot season is upon us and I need to be able to zip them up!
I find myself looking at the crazy thin models and other role models of "beauty" and wishing that I could look like them. Shorter. Skinnier. Perfect hair. Perfect white teeth. Amazing wardrobe.
And then I scold myself because I know that my body is MINE. It doesn't belong to anybody else and nobody else can ridicule it without my direct consent. In fact, there are a lot of people in this world who would love to be my "size" even as I envy others. They want my unruly, curly hair. They would love to be my pant size. And they would even love to be as tall as I am (careful with that one ladies, it's hard to wear heels).
I can't help but ask myself: when do we, as a human race, stop paying attention to the neighbor's yard and start to notice just how green ours is?
