Okay, I admit it, most women are jealous of me. Why would anyone be jealous of a short, adorably chubby, gray-haired mother of two? Because I’m comfortable with who I am and how I look.
Striving to look like a model simply never worked for me. At the age of ten, my measurements were 36-24-36 – a total waste on a child that age and an embarrassment since everyone thought I must be stuffing my mother’s bra to have breasts that large. Nope, it was all me and I carried that chest with loathing until I reached a more mature age and discovered I looked totally awesome in a dress!
Then there was my cousin who wanted nothing more than to develop like me and simply didn’t until she reached the age of sweet sixteen. Her chest exploded like Dolly Parton. Thank goodness, she had a bit more height to carry it off. Be careful what you ask for, folks, ’cause you just might get it.
Throughout the years, my weight has been up and down like an elevator on steroids because I kept trying to be perfect. To that end I tried the diet pills which were once sanctioned by doctors until they discovered they were prescribing pure street drugs by a fancy name. Then there was the combo drug that put folks into cardiac arrest. I did not use it but friends did and some with dire and permanent results.
Of course everyone crazed with wanting to be model thin has tried the purges, the cabbage soup diet, green coffee extract, raspberry extract, diets from all parts of the globe that all had one thing in common – you had to eat healthy and exercise or they did absolutely nothing. And if you were one of the fortunate(?) ones, you could count on putting what you lost back on plus a few pounds more. By the way, eating healthy and exercising will do the job without any additional expensive stuff pushed by commercials on television or Dr. Oz.
I smoked cigarettes. They definitely calmed my appetite. In fact, I would much rather have looked like a dragon with smoke flowing from my nose than eat breakfast, lunch or dinner. Alas, there were a few catches to that habit, too, like cancer, loss of limbs, loss of teeth, skin that looked old as Methuselah by the time a person reached middle age. So I quit before getting any of these things…and added sixty pounds to my glorious frame.
Not much has changed since then, except I’ve gotten older and wiser. As a senior we have to face the facts that weight doesn’t melt off as easily as it did when we were younger. And if we do get it off, the skin doesn’t shrink back to normal proportions as it once did. So I did the one thing I had not considered up until this point.
I took stock of what made up me. The body was part of it, but there were other things; things that meant more to friends and family. Generosity with time and, if I have it, money, although that’s a rarity. Doing things for strangers anonymously hoping they will pass the good deed along. Loving my family and loving my friends and having room in my heart always for one more. Smiling a lot and letting out a rip roaring belly laugh when something strikes my funny bone.
I worked hard for every wrinkle on this body and, yes, that spare tire, too. Why should I feel like apologizing for not looking twenty-two when I’m headed for sixty-eight?
Yes, I’m proud to be a Sexy, Sassy Senior. My sexiest moment occurred when I looked in the mirror and liked the woman I saw. She’s a good person who wants the best for others. She’s a person who could also be my best friend. We’re going to get along quite well for the rest of our lives.
Could not agree with you more, Vickie. Character trumps ‘pretty’ any day of the week in my book.
Well said. I have never been “thin”. Oddly, I never wanted to be, considering it a weakness. I like curves, muscle and power. I have had all and always liked myself. As a friend once told me, I am egotistical. At first I considered that an insult. Then after due consideration, I knew she was right. I never left my home without my makeup, false eyelashes and all. I loved my curves, wearing low cut blouses as often as possible. I never apologized for my weight and if others were smart, they never admonished me for it. Once I was riding horseback and stopped at a store to get a beer. A country bumpkin inside was overheard commenting that he liked big old girls. Meaning me. I walked back in and asked him what made him think I or any other woman would be interested in an uneducated dweeb like him ? Yes, I had a way of setting “those” types straight. A person should not be judged by physical characteristics when you yourself are probably not perfect. Few people are. And by the way, I have met plenty of so called perfect people who could not meet my standards as for personality. I like good, honest, friendly, fun, interesting people. I could care less if you are rich or dirt poor. I do care if you don’t try to do the best you can with what you have. Although first meetings with a physically attractive person usually are easier…the character of a person is what counts in the long run. And, rest assured, a pretty jerk is still a jerk.