I believe I’ve finally reached the golden age of body image acceptance. Much like the evolving journeys of parenting and relationships, this realization has unfolded gradually over the past few years, and it’s been a delightful surprise. After spending far too long scrutinizing myself in the mirror and lamenting my appearance, I now find joy in confidently admiring my reflection—yes, even without clothes on! No longer do I cringe at the sight of my backside; instead, I can embrace my curves and even playfully pat my dimpled rear with glee. What a victory!
It took me some time to hop on the “I am more than my dress size” train, but now that I’m aboard, there’s no turning back. I can’t pinpoint why it took so long to get here, but I suspect it had a lot to do with the unrealistic beauty standards perpetuated by the media. Since my early days of flipping through magazines, I bought into the fallacy that “thinner is better, thinner is sexier, and thinner is the key to happiness.” What a load of nonsense.
Let me tell you about this 44-year-old body of mine and all it can do—I honestly don’t care that I’m no longer a size 4. This body has given life to four incredible children, one of whom is now towering at 6 feet tall. My belly? The one that didn’t magically revert to a flat surface post-babies, with its loose skin and C-section scars? It jiggles, but with more joy than Santa’s belly after a holiday feast!
This body nourished my children with breasts that bear little resemblance to their former selves, now reminiscent of deflated balloons. Sure, they could use a supportive bra, but I wouldn’t trade the memories of nurturing my little ones for anything. Speaking of nurturing, these arms, though they still struggle with “girl” push-ups, have spent countless hours lifting toddlers in and out of car seats, cribs, and strollers. My arms might not be ready for a magazine cover, but the love they’ve given far surpasses the empty looks of supermodels.
And let’s talk about those curvy hips and sturdy thighs! Sure, they require a little more effort to fit into jeans these days, and yes, they sometimes chafe when I run, but they’ve carried me on so many adventures over the last decade.
It’s undeniable that my body is changing. We’re told that once you hit your 40s, everything starts to fall apart and weight loss becomes an uphill battle. But you know what? Who cares?! Am I strong? Absolutely. Am I generally healthy? You bet! Do I love my body? More than ever! I adore that I can play tennis with friends of all ages, bike ride with the enthusiasm of a child, and dive off the high board without a second thought. I cherish that my husband still finds me attractive, I can dance like nobody’s watching, and my mind is filled with thoughts that matter. My heart beats with more passion and joy now than it ever did in a smaller frame.
This body I’m learning to love—one that no longer strives for a smaller and sexier image—may be softer and wider, but since I’ve begun appreciating it for all it does, I’ve come to realize that those qualities make it far more precious than any idealized appearance.
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In summary, reaching a place of body positivity in your 40s is liberating. Rather than fixating on size, embracing what your body has achieved and can still do fosters a much healthier mindset. Celebrate your unique form and all that it encompasses!