Ass Love

Something happened over the course of the last year. 

I started to love my body a little bit more. And I started to love my ass.  I mean...like in my mind...have a great big old booty.  I've built it up a little bit.  It looks nice in pants...although sometimes yes...the seams of my dress slacks are pulled a little taunt...I like to attribute that to extra squats...not extra cookies. 

As those of you who have been reading my blog for years well know, I am a legend in my own mind.  I had reverse body dismorphic disorder as a big girl...hell I even sent my pictures to Lane Bryant once when they were having a modeling contest...and I was sure that my 5'4" frame would not be a factor.  I was kinda sure I would win.  I haven't heard from them yet.  It's only been 9ish years though...so maybe they are still sorting through the entries.

My point is...man I can get sidetracked whether quickly can't I?...is that perhaps my ass is the same ass I have been toting around for years.  But I started to believe it is rather awesome.  And that has really made all the difference.  And I don't stare at it and dissect it and pick out all the flaws.  If I see the cellulite...I tell myself...nah...that's clearing up.  If I look at it and it's not as high and firm as I regularly thing it is...I stop looking and whisper internally...your white girl booty is the envy of all races.  I stumbled across these words on instagram the other day:

 

It sums up what I am trying to say.  I think we spend so much time analyzing all the little things that are wrong with our bodies, that we begin to see things that aren't really there.  We begin to hate things that others don't even notice.  We fixate so much on the things we hate, that we don't appreciate the beauty in the mirror.

 

So lately, when I am naked in the bathroom doing various nude poses resembling cheerleader moves from my one year stint in 1997 as a cheerleader, or from the latest episode of So You Think You Can Dance...and I see my inner thigh hanging like a loose version of an elephant ear...I try to not look directly at the inner thigh elephant ear.  I make it go away.  I focus on something else that IS amazing on my body.  Oooh...is that my trap popping out?  Hello quads.  How are you? 

I mean really...it's like a body love version of Field of Dreams...but instead of "if you build it, they will come"...it's "If you stop hating it...you may begin loving it"...

It does occur to me from time to time...as I am strutting around Planet Fitness with my 'look back at it' tank...that people may be looking back at it and thinking..."um...does that girl know she got a fat booty full of cellulite"...but then I find myself a full length mirror...crank up my Pandora set on the Ying Yang Twins station and I hush those haters (my internal smack talking haters).