I've gained weight. I'd like to blame menopause for this, but unless menopause is code for "sits on her ass eating goat cheese and crackers while drinking wine," I don't think I can.
I'm short, so even a few pounds can make a difference. And to compound my small stature, I am stocky. So basically right now I look like your classic 1950s roller derby queen.
Being a woman and living in Los Angeles, I should be appalled by this fact. But, I'm not. In fact, I love my body right now for how strong it is. Even more, I love my body right now because I have a vigorous appetite and having an appetite is a blessing. Trust me, I know.
I've been in health situations in the past where I couldn't eat. Sure, I got lots of compliments from my fellow female Angelenos for my emaciated figure, but I was so weak I didn't want to do anything. When I was that skinny, I was tired all the time, mentally and physically. No food -not even goat cheese, crackers, and wine - was appealing. (If that doesn't sum things up, I don't know what does.)
I also don't mind my weight gain because I'm blessed to be married to a man who is okay with a stocky, food-obsessed woman. One of the greatest pleasures my husband and I share is our love of food. We can't get enough - together we watch shows about food, read articles about food, shop for food, prepare food, and, of course, eat food. The only thing we love more is our kids, which means if we were ever to become cannibals, we'd be the happiest two people ever.
I look like a roller derby queen, and that's a really, really good thing. Because looking like "a bleach- blonde mama with a streak of mean" means that I am alive and well and can eat and drink and roller skate to my heart's content, and when it comes down to it, there's really nothing better.
I'm just trying to figure it out, like everyone else.