I used to look in the mirror at my young toned and tanned body and mentally criticize it. I was never (by my own criteria) thin enough, toned enough, or “perfect” enough physically. Now, mind you, I was a size 2 or 4 most of my life. It didn’t matter. My body wasn’t exactly how I wanted it to be.
Fast forward from then to now. I am a scrawny 104 pounds- a size zero or one. My body still isn’t the way I want it to be. Only now, instead of being disappointed about how my body looks in a bikini, I am disappointed in how my body fails me. Instead of caring how it looks, my focus is on how it functions.
I would give anything to have the body I had when I was twenty something. Not the tanned six pack stomach part of it. The vibrance and strength of it. I want the energy. I want feet and legs that feel strong enough to run after a toddler all day. I want arms and shoulders that can lift my son and fling him into the air, catching him while he reels with laughter. I want wrists and fingers that are strong enough to tickle him and flexible enough to hold his little hand while we walk. I want a head that isn’t swimming with pain, but rather swimming with memories my husband and I have made together and thoughts of our next family vacation.
It is funny how your priorities change, yet remain the same. I am still on a quest for a perfect body, only my definition of perfect has changed.