– SIZE MATTERS IS IT A MATTER OF SIZE? – 
A recent dream discussion led me down this path
I have this dream discussion often
The caricatures characters change
Then again, they really don’t
They are always me, myself, and I female
There are always wailing tears
When I met the man I was to marry – I was in my prime at a svelte size 12
(He rocked a 30″ waist with a rock hard shame on you chest and bulging stop it arms)
When we married – I was an even svelter size 10
(He maintained his inches in all respects)
When we accidentally made the decision to get pregnant – I rocketed to a “Dayum! Do they even make clothes that big?” size Who Gives a Shit, I’m Pregnant
(Again, he maintained his inches and bulged in all the right places 😯 )
Post first born and Pre second born – I regained my pre-marriage svelteness at size 12 with only a slight shift in distribution
(Somewhere around here, he upsized to 32″ despite developing noassatol syndrome)
Post second born – Let’s just say, svelte was forever in the rearview. I was proud to have achieved a 14 with zero qualms of how I looked cuzzzzzzzz I looked good and behaved like I believed it!
(This is 6 years in and he’s effortlessly sporting that 32″)
[These were the days of meeting him at the door in one of his t-shirts that went ‘just’ down to there, or one of his dress shirts buttoned ‘just’ up to there. Ya know?]
Now…fast forward 25 years, 7 states, 16 or more, I’m too tired to count addresses, later – I’m coming in at a fluffier size 18 to his 34″ and questioning a severely intimacy challenged marriage of 30 years
A challenge to my desirability and to his commitment
A challenge we both decided we didn’t want to engage in anymore
A challenge we both walked away from; me leaving, him allowing me to
A challenge that was one stroke of the pen away from no longer being a challenge but a divorce
We each fought our demons
We each made the decision to try again
We each found our way back to the love that was always there but had been taken for granted
We each found our way back to loving each other in all ways and knowing we’d made the right decision
And. It. Was. Good.
Even though were I to have met him at the door in one of his t-shirts then, he’d have asked when I’d bought a new sports bra…we’d have laughed because
We. Were. Good.
Fast forward again…three years later, to the here and now the last place I want to or thought I’d be, again
This time in our lives when we’ve made big decisions to show each other that WE are what’s important
Decisions that took us off one road and put our feet on another, for all the right reasons or so I thought
Decisions that I see now, perhaps only delayed the inevitable
It hurts worse now…after the trying and the changes
It hurts worse now because what is there left to do besides try to become something I’m not, thin, but even if I was or could be again, I’d never trust him for loving that me and not this me
It hurts worse now because there is nothing in the way; nothing to blame…
But myself for becoming something he didn’t bargain for
The honest truth is…it’s harder to live with the fact that he says he loves you, shows you he does in lots of little ways, but can’t in the way he would if you were even close to who or what you used to be, or at least, not what you are today, which is a hefty bag size 20 who’s food intake is far less than the average 10 year old
It’s harder to live with knowing you’re loved so much that he can’t imagine living without you, yet can’t show you that he knows and sees you are still the woman he married somewhere in there under all that life the way you can see him as the man you married under the gray hair, age spots, saggy butt, and not too bulging arms because…
the outside only drew you in…it was the inside that knocked you out
I know we are no longer teenagers
I also know, this is the time we were both working toward and looking forward to
We grow in our lives and in our love
We change our minds and change our outlooks
We transcend some things and put up with others
We shouldn’t have unrealistic expectations
But we shouldn’t settle for less than we deserve need either
So…I find myself at a crossroad once again
I’ve found this way of living and loving leaves me feeling at a loss lost
Self Esteem – Self-esteem is what we think and feel and believe about ourselves
Self Worth – Self-worth is recognizing “I am greater than all of those things”
What does this mean to me?
Well…there’s no question that my self esteem has taken a huge hit through all of this. As the esteem comes from those things that make us feel good about ourselves
Nothing about the last year adds shit to mine
So…that leaves my feelings of self worth
Self worth is a deep knowing of your worth. An honest belief that you are valuable, worth loving, and necessary
This has very little, if anything, to do with your self esteem
Surprising to me, is that I KNOW my worth. Through it all, for the first time ever maybe, I KNOW my self worth
I know I’m valuable – I know I’m lovable – I know I’m necessary
Which leaves me with this…I know I’m worthy of complete love, so why am I accepting less?
Is it really such a bad thing that I have all but become a hermit…not leaving the house unless I absolutely have to, because if someone who LOVES me sees me this way, how the hell does the rest of the world see me?
Does it really matter in the grand scheme of things that the best I can hope for is an “I love you” as he rolls over to go to sleep?
Am I over reacting when he reaches to hold my hand and I pull it away because my thoughts immediately go to “I don’t want to give you the impression that I’ll settle for that” so I’ll give you nothing instead?
The worst part is…
I love kissing hello and kissing goodbye
I have always loved walking hand in hand, knowing the hand I’m holding wants to hold mine and let the world know I’m his and he’s mine
But I find I no longer want to be offered those things, as I see them as a consollation prize to the big show
The worst part is…how fucked up is that?
The worst part is…I deny the simple things I truly love because I can’t have it all.
AND it confuses me
Am I crazy?
Am I, at 54, supposed to let all of that go?
Did I go through Menopause for this?
Should I be telling myself that all people our age are giving it up without a fight?
Should I be content with what I have and piss off what I don’t? There’s nothing wrong with companionship if companionship is what you want.
Even though I take the blame because I’m not a size 10 or 12 anymore?
I don’t know
I. Just. Don’t. Know.
Sorry…this was a shit filled ass post
An exercise in self pity if there ever was one and yes, it’s disgusting
I didn’t have to write this here, but it’s my page so I did
I just want to know…why can’t I let it go?
I want to let it go
I want to
I want
Shit…how selfish is that?
No Comments Needed…I’ll figure it out.
xo
50 Shades of Gray Hair 