It's about more than a reflection in the mirror

I am very quickly approaching the 50 year mark in my life. With that accomplishment coming around the corner you would normally (I think) start reflecting on where you thought you would be at this point and look back at where you have come from. At this time in my life though I never thought that I would put so much emphasis on a physical aspect in that way of thinking rather than in a professional, geographical or one based on experiences and lessons learned. 

I have never been a “Swimsuit cover of Sports Illustrated” type of girl; never was Tyra Banks model material – but was cute and sweet I like think and was built okay for me suppose. I never “hated” my body and never dreaded buying swimsuits or shorts. As I aged though [especially later in life] that started changing. I am no longer the size I was many moons ago and the middle age spread got off to a running start before the pistol was even fired.

I remember one night when I was working second shift dispatching we had ordered dinner and I was starving! I ordered something like two corndogs, fries and a milkshake. My boss at the time came in a saw my rather large display of food and said “one day that will catch up with you girlie.” I scoffed at the notion and laughed at her thinking that my [sort of] petite self would ever weigh more than I did.  Now here I am looking back at all the times I splurged at the local drive-in, pretty much committed gluttony anytime I was near a fast food restaurant and how many milkshakes I have drank over the years and looking at myself in the mirror saying to myself “well she was right!”

I pretty much quit shopping for me, because to be honest there is nothing more discouraging than not being able to fit in the same size that you wore that last time you went into a dressing room. Oh the dressing room…yeah that sure isn’t where I spend much time…those mirrors are my worst enemy. I’m leaving for the beach in a few days and I literally want to cry at the thoughts of facing myself in a reflective piece of glass! I know that it’s going to take a lot of self-motivation to even get myself in a store that has swimwear. I am already dreading in itself the thoughts of walking out on the beach and imagining how many snapchats will be sent to people with me being the subject of some sort of mockery.

It’s not that I want to look this way…the way that I imagine people think of me. In fact looking down at myself I don’t feel like I’m a prime candidate for Jenny Craig or Weight Watchers – it’s that darn mirror that paints a different picture. The time will come that hopefully I will get a grip on this challenge of losing weight, but until then I have tried to put a different perspective on what I am really about.

I have learned a valuable lesson though through this transformation from a size 4 to a size 14. I look at women who have the same issue with size as myself and I think differently than I used to. At one time I looked at those ladies and thought to myself “hmmm wonder if they have always been “big”? The same way that I used to think of myself when I looked in the dreaded mirror (or as I like to think of it – a creation by Satan himself). I now though try to have a different perception of not only myself, but those other women as well that are in the same boat as me. I think about the fact that I am the same person on the inside that I have always been. I still am loving. I still love to laugh and try to be funny. I still genuinely care about people and what they go through. I still would move mountains for the people I love….none of these things have changed about me. It’s only the outward appearance that has.  So now when I look at other women I wonder to myself what they feel – are their feelings about the whole “the outside vs the inside” debate the same as mine? I wonder if they have the same insecurities. I wonder if they feel inadequate in ways that are superficial. I wonder if when they look in the mirror if they see the person that I see when I look at myself…the person who wants to look great in a swimsuit, but if I don’t I’m still the same individual – just in a bigger proportion….for now.

The most important thing that I have to remember - and that I have to remind myself of - is that as much as I hate the darn mirror, I can’t allow it to make me feel bad about myself. I have to look at the mirror and realize that what I see in my reflection only describes me – it’s doesn’t define me.

It's never too late to make sister memories

I was 15 years old when my little sister was born. By the time she had become a toddler I was well on my way into adulthood and had moved out of my family home. I missed out on so much of her life when she was growing up and it wasn’t until lately that I really have thought about the importance of the things that I didn’t get to be a part of. We never had the closeness that other sisters have because there was so much of an age difference. We never got to play Barbie dolls or dress up; we never got to have secrets that we could have taunted our brothers with and we never got to lay in bed at night giggling and talking about boys. We didn’t get to help pick out each other’s prom dresses; I didn’t get to be the overprotective sister at high school; I didn’t get to be the one that she talked to about her broken heart when some jerk hurt her.

Years have passed since our childhood and basically all the memories we have are not having those important memories together. As we have gotten older though God has blessed us with the opportunity now to somewhat make up for all that lost time. It was like one day we started calling each other more often (other than when we just needed a favor or had a question). Our relationship began to grow into the relationship that I have always envied other sisters of having. We call each other to vent, to get advice or to just tell a funny story. Regardless of what the conversation is about, with each phone call we get closer.

Somewhere along the way from the transition of the little sister that I missed out on so much with - to the woman that I am now closer to than anyone, she has become one of the strongest women that I have ever known. Recently she has had her fair share of trials that have given her both the occasion to fight or to give up – and giving up has not been an option. I’ve learned something in this bonding process; that even though I wish more than anything that I could take some credit for her being the person that she is, she did it all herself. She has spread her wings without my help and oh my goodness does she soar! I look at this woman who was once a little curly haired brat that I didn’t appreciate and now I see a woman before me that grew up without me and yet did perfectly fine!

I find myself now [even with being the older sister] that she is teaching me as much as I can teach her. She shows me different ways to be a better mom, she encourages me when I feel like giving up and most importantly she is my best friend. She holds my wings up when I get tired or flying and in turn I am there to catch her if her wings give out. We balance each other out now and age is not even a factor.

As vital as I think that the things are that we have missed out on, I think that it has made our relationship more special and stronger now than I would have ever thought possible a few short years ago. We have this bond now that enables us to pretend to go back in time and be silly like little girls if we want or to be strong the women for each other that we have learned through tough spots to be.

Every now and then I sit in the floor and let her fix my hair, we have our secrets that we pinky swear not to share with anyone else and on occasion we even talk about boys (aka men). Although we don’t lay in the bed and giggle late at night I know without a doubt that no matter what time it is – we are there for each other. Even though looking back on these memories there won’t be the images of pig tails and acne – they are even more precious to me because we are growing together now and it’s never too late in life to grow up together.