Over the last two years I’ve gone from being a fairly avid runner who paid pretty careful attention to what I consumed to, well, the current version of me. Some junky life stuff happened and I “let myself go” as they say. I try not to allow photos of myself show up on social media. I’ll rarely allow photos I’m tagged in to make it to my timeline, though that doesn’t stop them from being seen everywhere else.
It’s a shame that being a woman, in particular, can be so difficult. I would add “these days” to that, but the truth is we’ve always had some expectation to live up to. Born in a different era, my most comfy self (thin and semi-athletic) would be looked at with pity while my current self would be perfectly acceptable.
I was sent some photos from a recent trip and I immediately wanted to edit and crop… okay, toss… every one I’m in. Then I noticed I was laughing or genuinely smiling in a handful. I love candid shots that capture authentic joy. If I zoom in, away from the parts of myself that make me simultaneously want to eat a pint of ice cream with a glass of wine and hit the gym for an hour of weights and cardio, all I see is a woman who for some brief moments didn’t care about anything other than those brief moments.
Throw your head back and laugh. Real laughter. The kind that makes you know life is so fantastic. Then go run 5 miles or eat some cupcakes. Or both.
Vulnerability = Joy