For the men out there, take notice but tread carefully for it is a sensitive subject up ahead.

I have debated about writing this today but I think it is a worthy subject to discuss…it is awkward and humbling, but real. Being a woman who values her integrity, I do not see how I can avoid this topic.

The subject of weight, health, weight loss, healthy lifestyles is all around us. As women, we are bombarded by photo-shopped-personal chef-personal trainer-my job is my body-pictures as this world’s representation of beauty. As I was watching TV just now I saw “J-Lo” strutting her stuff (she is my age people) and some young actress, who is apparently the daughter of Phil Collins, discussing her teenage problem with an eating disorder.

I am convinced that my story today is not random.

Please bear with me.

We have spent the last five days on the shores of Lake Michigan~ absolute heaven- on -earth people! We have a wonderful travel trailer that the four of us, plus my dog Max, can all cozy into without trouble. Being near the beach, we have gotten some serious sand and sun!

This sets the stage for what happened next.

After packing up to head for home, I strolled on ahead of my family so I could use the public facilities prior to assisting my husband with emptying our “personal potty” (it is a travel trailer after all…one does have certain duties to perform after performing ones duties!).

Anyhooo….I am casually strolling to where my family is pulling into the “dump station” (if you felt the need to know the technical term) and a thought occurs to me:

I feel good. I mean, I really feel good.

I have a wicked awesome tan after sitting on the beach for the last 3 days, my hair (although slightly damp from exertion) is pulled into my version of a “messy” (nay, sexy) bun on the top of my head, my blue toe polish is only a little chipped but sparkles against my newly bronzed skin, I am wearing new (-er) cut-off jean shorts that are just the right color (not too dark and not too light), and a black tank top that frankly looks awesome with a tan.

I feel good.

At the age of 42, I strutted. I owned my age. I have fought life and came out stronger for it. I have grown inside of me and given birth to two beautiful sons from my body….

It was a wonderful and powerful moment.

As I walked tall and proud to my car, I felt I could conquer the world while feeling admiring eyes on me like when I was 20 years ago and without a care in the world.

I must add, that the woman picking up her dog poo did not seem to pay any mind to me and my prowess…but it was a lovely thought regardless if anyone noticed or agreed!

Then, IT happened.

(here comes the part I cannot believe I am going to write but I know I must)

I walked into our camper where my son of almost 14 years is waiting for me at point where the path inside the camper becomes very narrow once we are travel-ready and the slide-out is slid in. I am filling a 5 gallon container of water and handing it to him so he can dump it repeatedly as a rinse into the…errrr-you must know what I mean.

As I hand him the third container, I say to him that we are almost done. His response was something to the effect of “why am I doing this? Can’t you fit down the aisle and into the doorway of the bathroom anymore?”

Wha-whaat??!

I realize that I have gotten…a little…soft… over the years. I realize, and know all too well, that my new (er) shorts are not exactly the same size I wore a few years ago-let alone when I was 20! I am acutely aware that my tank top is not “baggy” but more like stretched to a comfortable shape.

What I was not prepared for was having my first born point this out to me…and the extreme CRASH I felt after all the feeling good of only a few minutes before.

My son is not mean…clueless and tactless, yes…but not mean. He is young and this is the appropriate time for a life lesson to be taught by his dad…but this is not about him.

This is about me.

In one simple statement, I was completely deflated.

I went from strutting and empowered to embarrassed and ashamed in about 5 seconds.

WHY ARE WE LIKE THIS AS WOMEN???

I, of course, told his father that he needed a “little chat” with his son but I also told my child to “go away, get out of here” because I was “done with him” in that task.

I could not look at this boy. I did not want to feel anything for this boy. I wanted him to be sorry.

And then I became mad at his dad(my husband)-of course this the logical leap in the scheme of rational thinking…

I suddenly doubted my self-worth in my husband’s eyes. Naturally, I immediately assumed my son was calling me fat because I was fat and therefore everyone else in the world knew it too including my husband. His seeming attraction to me was all lies…he was “stuck” with me.

My thoughts continued to escalate to the major embarrassment I am to these men in my life, especially when I was lounging around on the beach in my (gasp!) swimming suit! I tortured myself wondering who else thought I was a proverbial whale when I was attempting to float on my float-y raft in the lake.

What the heck??!

How did that happen so quickly??

Now, my husband could tell me I was beautiful after this conversation with my child, but do you think I would believe him in my current state of mind? Heck no! And, he is wise to me and my mind games…so he stays silent knowing full well that a trap has been laid no matter what move he makes that will snap him in half in an instant!

I sat in the car, nearly in tears. Why was I so upset, I asked myself. Because my son stated the obvious? Because the “obvious” is true (in some form)?

That I cared.

Prior to that singular moment, I was on top of the world because of how I felt on the inside- not what I saw on the outside. Once a comment came about the outside, all that was on the inside diminished in impact.

That has nothing to do with my son. That has nothing to do with my weight or my shorts size. It has to do with how I feel about me…what matters to me…who I matter to.

The enemy of this world tries to pull me, and so many other women, from the center of which our worth really comes from. I have to constantly remind myself that who I am is because of Who it is that made me and that is what gives me worth; my Maker is who gives me a sense of value.

This is a 24-7 battle in my mind: a battle that my son had been unaware of until that moment.

I told my son later, once he came to apologize, that I am who God created me to be and I like me. A wise friend told me once that we all have the life we want…because if we wanted something different we would be doing something different.

Apparently, I like me this way, the way I am right now because I am not aggressively making changes toward the contrary.

I am walking more often. I am taking multi-vitamins. I am watching my food choices. I am investing my free time into activities with my kids and my relationship with the Lord.

But, I also shop on a budget and eat on the run-fast food, even, when time is limited (shoot me). We are on the move so much that I actually consider it a rare treat to watch TV before 10 pm because I don’t slow down long enough to watch it.

I choose to wake early to spend time with Christ instead of exercising in those minutes. Yes, I know I could listen to a sermon or someone reading the Bible to me as I walk or run in the morning but I like to read the Word myself and highlight it as I get a revelations from God. I have made other choices that work for me.

This is where I am in my life and I am ok with it…. I want to be ok with it.

I want the Holy Spirit to keep whispering in my ear against the lies that say I do not matter and ask me, instead, do I know where my worth comes from?

I like that He makes me say it out loud as a reminder to myself…Who do I belong to? Who am I trying to please?

You, Lord!

So…here I am:

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