limbs, but this is sad. Really.
One day I was talking to my beautiful, willowy niece. She told me to
"love my tree". It turns out that she has trouble loving accepting
her body as well, and reminds herself to love her tree when she
starts to criticize her own body.
Reality is that I am rather attached to my body, and better make the
best of living with it. Of course, I still have goals to work out
more, eat less, eat more healthily. Accepting myself while I meet or
ignore these goals, on alternating days, is the trick. I have noticed
that my svelte sisters worry just as much about their bodies as I do,
but are much closer to a willowy tree. Maybe the satisfaction never
comes. We are dissatisfied with our body image no matter what we look
like: 17 firm and fit, 45 soft and rounded, or 47 firm and fit. The
trick to being happy with your body, therefore, is not to be the
perfect size or shape. It is to accept what we have, learn to
appreciate it, and not try to be a different tree.
My husband walked into the room today and made an appreciative noice
as I reached up to trim a plant. I laughed. Surely he must be joking
that he appreciated the view my short robe provided as I reached up.
Or maybe he wasn't joking. I think he loves my tree.
