Tag: authenticity

Taking Up Space.

Not your usual before and after, but this journey for me is about embracing all of the things about myself that I don’t like and turning them into loves.

I wear a size 12W.

As if the 12 is not enough, my feet are also wide, probably because I live in Texas and flip-flops are life.

Everything about me just always seemed so big. If I could have somehow made myself invisible, I would have.

I never knew how to take up the space that I do. That seems like a really wierd statement when I read it back to myself, but I don’t know how else to explain it.

I just felt tall, and awkward, and big, and there. I wanted to not be as noticeable, fade into the background like a nice clock on the wall, but there I was, in all of my glory.

These ‘big’ things about myself just made me feel…not feminine. In my head, to qualify as feminine, I felt I had to be petite, and everything about me had to be small.

But there are so many of us in so many different shapes and sizes, that means that statement is just simply not true.

So, shoes were never something I fell in love with like most women. They were even worse to shop for than clothes. This made special occasions or even bowling something to dread.

I decided to revamp my shoe space – from a pile of clown shoes to an organized section of my bedroom – and I also added some fun shoes to my collection like platform sneakers, cheetah, gold, and even sequins.

I’m going to take up space in style.

Today, I’m wearing some cheetah print flats to work and the compliments have been rolling in.

My feet might be long and wide, and I won’t be able to change that – but I can still take up space with them fashionably.

They’ve taken me wherever I’ve needed to go during my 31 years on this earth.

So, they are pretty damn special and beautiful when I think about it.

I’ve also been stealing glances at my new shoe area in my room and smiling.

It feels like I’m finally starting to grow into the space that I take up and own it.

–S.

Running.

I don’t really remember running.

I’m sure I did as a child, and was forced to during the annual fitness test, and for certain gym class activities.

But you know your brain can block out traumatic experiences, so I’m sure that’s what happened.

I always saw it as something only ‘skinny’ people could do, so why bother?

I walk at least an hour every day now and it never fails that I see at least one person running.

For a second, those old feelings hit me:

You can’t run.
You’ll never be able to run.
You’ll never have a runner’s body.
On and on they go.

Lies that I tell myself that I’ve collected over the years – I don’t even think half of the statements are true.

So, I called bullshit today.

I’ve known since last night that I was going to attempt to run today, so I stalled all day.

Around 5p, I was hitting the – yeah, I’m tired of working out every day, mood, y’know – good old self-sabotage.

Then I walked half a mile to the Elementary School behind my house – skinny women in sports bras, flat stomachs showing, everywhere on the track.

The Universe must hate me.

And then my feet hit the pavement, and something happened.

I ran.

I really believed that I couldn’t – wholeheartedly.

Like I really thought I’d make it about 5 steps and pass out. Roast in the Texas sun like a glazed honey ham – only to be found in the morning by a bird taking a shit.

I ran a total of .75 of a mile.

Something big happened.

Something shifted in me.

I thought of every time that I said NO to something because of my weight without even trying, but today I said YES to a future of trying.

I’m not a runner. Nor am I skinny. Nor do I have a runner’s body, whatever the fuck that is, but I ran today and felt alive.

–S.