Made of Iron

I like the fact that Jessica Simpson is on weight watchers and having a little bit of trouble losing her baby weight.  I like the fact that she gained 70 lbs.  I loved that on March 20^th 2012 she would say on Jimmy Kimmel she was due “any minute” and didn’t end up delivering until 6 weeks after that comment, May 1.  I love it because I did the same thing.  I occasionally fudged my due date at times when someone would walk up to me and say, “Wow, any day now, right?”  “Yup,” I would answer at 32 weeks pregnant. ‘You are about to pop,” they would yell.  “Any day now,” I would respond at 36 weeks.  Clearly I shouldn’t have been THAT big?  You do what you gotta do to get by and to ensure someone doesn’t say, “are you sure there aren’t twins in there?”… Blah!

Back to Jessica Simpson.  I do not like how they call her fat in the tabloids.  I hate how they are so hard on her if she shows up at LAX airport in a big dress carrying her luggage and a few extra pounds.   I love how she is real; I hate that her actual physical existence is made out to be unworthy and unlovely.  The thing is she is so absolutely beautiful and I’m afraid she is not as aware as she could be of it.  She has been ripped from her pedestal time after time.  Mom jeans, big pregnant belly, she is not losing the baby weight fast enough and so on and so forth…

Jessica Simpson, I'm on your side!  

I’m glad she had a girl.  I hope she can raise her to tune out the bad comments and be real amongst all of the phoniness that surrounds her life.  I hope she succeeds.  I hope for the same for my girls.  Phony is everywhere…not just in Hollywood.  We all battle our self- image.  We all battle the petty small= minded “tabloids” of our time.  How do we cope?  How can we tune it out?  Image.  Pressure. I’ve had my Jessica Simpson moments.  I’ve been in situations where another woman will continuously praise another woman’s fit body in front of me to the point where I leave the conversation with my head hanging in between my legs, my shoulders slumped as low as the floor.  It isn’t done on purpose, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t feel bad.  Throw me a bone.  Are my eyebrows waxed evenly?  Anything?  Bueller?  If you are going to throw it out so freely over there, can I get a little nudge over here?  But, I know… it is no good to have to seek approval from others.  We have to be strong enough inside.

With that said, I feel like raising girls is going to be hard in terms of making sure they have a strong self-image, strong coping skills and a healthy tune it out mentality. I dread not only the high school years, but also any year or thing that has the ability to break my daughter’s hearts- this feeling of being not enough.  Someone making them feel like that for one second is enough to make me want to run screaming in the other direction with my hands up in the air and a white flag between my teeth.  As a woman, I’ve been there.  Only recently have I been able to come to a place that I feel that I am ok, even with those 8 extra pounds. There is such a standard to live up to.  But we cannot chase it forever.  We have to try and chase the path to good health and come to terms with our healthy selves.  I have to try and teach my children that! Because really…this other standard is made up by whom?  Someone steering the ship and pressing those buttons, yelping an evil laugh, and saying in that witch of a voice, “let’s see what they will do now.” Beep, beep…Baahhaaaahaaa….

In th end, we aren’t made of steel.  But, I guess we have to be strong enough within ourselves to battle those critical moments with armor made of iron not as strong but just as durable.  These harsh critics are planted in our lives to make us stronger.  Am I right?  We can get through it, if we lean on supportive people who raise us up and ignore the ones who point and tease.  Live and let live.  Love yourself, but not too much.  Ha! And teach my children to fight back with goodness and trip the ones that really make them cry.