There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion.
--Sir Francis Bacon
Getting ready this morning, I wsa struck with the sudden realization that my physique has come to resemble those of the Renaissance goddesses, you know, the ones with pronounced rolls at every angle. Once upon a time, a great artist may have glanced and gone, "Ah-ha!" but now people take a glance and think that maybe someone should cut back on the Reese Pieces. When did this transition of thought happen?
--Sir Francis Bacon
Getting ready this morning, I wsa struck with the sudden realization that my physique has come to resemble those of the Renaissance goddesses, you know, the ones with pronounced rolls at every angle. Once upon a time, a great artist may have glanced and gone, "Ah-ha!" but now people take a glance and think that maybe someone should cut back on the Reese Pieces. When did this transition of thought happen?
vs.
I remember in middle school when my derrier suddenly became the most prominent part of my physique. I didn't notice until I could never find pants that fit right--everything was either too tight on my bum or was too large at the waist. "Bubble butt" I was called, and for the next eight years I hated it. Hated that I had curves where other girls were twigs. Hated that I couldn't wear shorts without my legs looking like Miss Piggy's. Hate that I couldn't wear those tiny string bikinis because half my rear would hang out. I wore boy board shorts instead, covering every inch of flesh that I could. I stopped wearing shorts all together, eventually, nothing that fell above the knee. I tried running (hated it . . . that didn't last very long) and all sorts of work out routines to try to shrink it. My waist line would diminish and my arms would earn a little more tone, but my butt never faded.
In college, things took a slight turn. People started noticing my figure--as if the giant ghetto white booty could be missed . . . and they complimented me. Girls said they were jealous; boys actually looked at me for the first time. My husband--then boyfriend--told me I was the most stunning girl he'd ever seen, that he wouldn't change my figure for the world (granted he was supposed to say that . . . but he meant it--he still says it multiple times a day).
Still, some people would say I was heavier than I should have been. They would say it even more, now. I'm somewhere in-between. If my pants fit, I'm good to go (I hate shopping for pants . . . still the same issue of too little butt room and too much waist room). Now, I just want to have a healthy life style, as best I can. Losing weight, eh take it or leave it. Keeping my body fit so I have a long life and bounce back after having kids? Definitely. Chris encourages this . . . then offers me a heaping dessert. Thanks, honey. ;)
What about you? What do you define as beautiful? What would you change about yourself, if anything?
