My body…the confession

So I am like 40 and you know what that means?  Men, teenage girls, and little kids think that’s like OLD right?  Considering 40 isn’t really that old and I wasn’t born when they discovered Stonehenge I am still considerably young.

I do however have this problem and it’s not going away any time soon.  No matter how many times  I have tried to act like it didn’t exist…it comes back and stares me in the face every single time I look in the mirror.

Have I gotten your interest up yet?

Do you want to know what my problem is?

Of course you do…we are all nosey by nature.

I am/was/is ASHAMED of my body (all depends on my mood that day).

There, I said it.  I have confessed.  I should feel free and liberated now, right?


I still want to get dressed in the dark.  I don’t want anyone to see.


There’s more.  Before you get all judgmental on me…let me explain.

I have the whole saggy boobs thing going.  Add insult to injury…I have a huge bra.  Big flappy, saggy boobs.

The chronic flat/squared/rectangle thing going on with my ass.

Then there’s the hematoma on my thigh.  Try explaining that to men when you get naked.  Or when it’s visible from the pants or shorts that I am wearing.  Just imagine…all of your friends wearing daisy dukes and your wearing Capri pants in the summer time.

Also, the protruding ribs.  My short lived efforts at being a dare devil!  The little jump off of the steps with my bike that went horribly wrong.  At least I lived to tell the tale, right?

Oh, then there’s the stretch marks.  I have had them since I hit puberty.  It was weird being so young in a cover up.  Not sure that I wanted the world to see my woman marks.  I never wore bikini’s or bathing suits without trying to mask my disgrace.

Did I forget to mention…the muffin top…the last kid really did me in.  I didn’t snap back like I did with the other two.

Oh let’s not forget, Bucky the Beaver.  I was called this a lot by kids when I was little.  I had a massive gap and these huge, discolored front teeth (again…being the tom boy that I was…another story for another day), and these two pig tales that just screamed…not cute at ALL.

So let me run it down…big gut, huge lump, flat ass, and a partridge and a pear tree…

Yeah…that’s me…so insecure…so ashamed.

I won’t blame all the magazines with the insanely skinny women.

I won’t blame the doctors that poke needles in people’s faces to make them look young again.

I won’t blame my parents for their genetic make up.  Although…it is technically their fault…

I won’t blame my love for peanut butter Oreo’s in the middle of the night either.

I won’t blame my love for red meat, cakes, pies, cookies and the best of all…plain Lay’s potato chips…

I won’t even blame my reckless behavior while being a kid…

Or the three kids that I gave birth too.  Even though, I have had saggy boobs since I was 15.

I won’t even blame my age either.

I won’t blame anyone or anything.

At the end of the day…every part of my body is a reminder of something that I did that was wonderful, great, and the not so great.

I won’t say that I am 100 percent comfortable in my own skin.

I will say that every lump, bump, or sag has a story and most of those stories mean something special to me.

I tell you what I do know, that I’m the ugly duckling that turned into a beautiful swan… I grew into my teeth too.

I love me some me.

There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t take an opportunity to take a selfie. (Usually from the neck up)

Please believe that I may not like being naked but I absolutely love a curvy dress, fabulous make up and some F*** me pumps.

I’m done confessing for today.  Do you have something to confess to today?

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