Insecurity

I went to Target this weekend with Sister.  She needed a gift for her favorite neighbor friend.  He is a boy, but NOT her boyfriend.  Although whenever another kid comes to play with the two of them, I usually have to extend several warnings on this subject.  What is it with a girl and a boy being friends?  I guess they will always be teased. 

Anyway, we found some sweet treasures for her excursion – a surprise for her and a gift for Tru.  We wandered the whole length of the store and found the most adorable ruffled swimsuit on the clearance rack for her.  She had to swear that she wouldn’t beg me for another suit.  She also had to promise dad over the phone.  He needed some convincing.  But I was sold when her eyes twinkled and she twirled right in the middle of the aisle while holding the suit like a new baby.    I had a coral suit once.  I still love it in memory. 

Of course, then she wanted to be twins so I found my own coral suit and humored her in the dressing room.  I shouldn’t have done it.  I’ve encountered Target’s dressing room lights before and fulfilling her curiosity was not worth the psychological damage that was done in there.  I’m aware that my poor body has been through some rough phases in the past years.  And while my weight loss was super on target as  I made strong progress toward my end goal, the back injury sort of threw me under the bus.  I’m so atrophied that when my husband tried to rub the tight muscles in my back he couldn’t find any…not tight muscles…he couldn’t find any muscles.  My weight loss plan did NOT include nine to ten hours lying flat in the agenda and it has done some flattening to say the least.  Ugh.  But I felt like I’d made some peace with that.  I saw some back flab the other day and about had a heart attack until Burns confirmed that it was worse before… but now at least I’m gaining some muscle again.  Yep.  I wanted to punch him.  But what could I do back then but flaccidly survive.  And so I did.  Except then I stood in front of that two way mirror and stared straight at my back side.   There was screaming…mostly inside my head…but only because I’m building a web of lies for my daughter that I love my body just the way it is. 

It was a little heart-rending.  Even seeing my little Miss twirl around in my grown up coral suit couldn’t cheer me up.  Of course, I pretended anyway.  And we had a lovely time.  But my ego took a hit from the wicked presentation of reality.  I’m going to let that battle wage in my head for a bit.  And until then, you get shadows.   Shadows don’t show cellulite, atrophy, two year battles with gravity.

But shadows are still real, enough.  And I love my shadow.