As a middle-aged woman, who should be hitting her emotional stride (so to speak), and happily rejoicing in some hard earned confidence, why am I still bugged by body image garbage?!
I mean, I'm incredibly lucky that I'm healthy, active and still have unrestricted use of my ankles and knees. I can run, frolic, skip and canter with the best of them but somehow find myself skidding to a stop when I catch a glimpse of my little bumpy frame in the reflection of a passing mirror/picture glass window. *Ugh* I have no idea why I can't reconcile myself with the realities of physical aging (I mean, my chubby tummy is a well worn symbol of the three babies I gratefully carried to term; my ample backside is a familial gift of thriving genetics; my stocky legs are carry-overs from, I'm positive, good solid farming stock).
But personally, I think one of of the biggest reasons I have such a hard time with these silly imperfections is because of several cultural factors.
Take exhibit A:
There is absolutely NO way I could EVER look like this (unless I undergo the knife several times!)
But take Exhibit B:
Now we're talking! In my humble opinion, the ancients had it right all along ... big, bulbous and beautiful! I really should focus on old measures of beauty and start filtering the ridiculous versions we have today!