Member-only story
To Anyone Who Wants a Different Body
I urge you to ask yourself this one question.
My dearest body critic,
I know. Today was supposed to be different.
Yesterday, you felt so excited to begin your journey toward having that beach-ready bod.
You had an entire workout mapped out. You swore you’d abstain from any sweet stuff, any greasy stuff, and you pushed the wine and tequila to the back of the cabinet.
Over and over you chanted, “Let’s fucking do this, baby!” or something spunky like that.
As you slept, you dreamt of yourself lounging by the pool and glistening with happiness in your new and improved frame. Soon enough, that glorious scene would no longer be a fantasy but a real moment in time.
Then tomorrow came. You woke up later than planned, and all that energy and exuberance from the night before had somehow fizzled.
Rather than lining the counter with fruit, spinach, and flax seeds to make your power smoothie, you opted for the Eggos and Mrs. Butterworth’s.
Rather than breaking a sweat from your high-intensity workout, you put on your stretchy pants and wondered if your motionless body would even need a shower.
All the while, you stared yourself down in the mirror and cringed at every cut. You felt angry, disgusted, and disappointed in yourself for ever letting it get to this point and for not having the prolonged wherewithal to do something about it.
You turned on the TV to distract your mind from your saggy, unsightly flesh. But the lean, sanguine figures on the screen reeled you back to the dark side.
Inside you scream, How do they do it? How the fuck do they have bodies like that? Do they just never enjoy a slice of pie or a homemade casserole or happy hour margarita?
I know. You’re at a loss. You’re asking yourself where your willpower is hiding. You’re screaming for it to come out of the woodwork so you can latch onto it and finally get the trim waist, toned legs, and tight ass you’ve seen so many times in your sleep.
I get it. I really do get it.
