I've been going to the gym every day for about two weeks now. And I'm loving it. There are several women from church that go to this same gym, and we usually chat while we're there. One of the topics of conversation always seems to be what we don't like about our bodies. What we'd like to change, that sort of thing. I mean, we are at the gym. We are making a pretty big effort to change what we can. With these conversations we always seem to be get to the boob job, liposuction and tummy tuck part of the conversation.
And, you know, I was really thinking about having a tummy tuck once I was done having kids. I have to have c-sections, and that little area right above my scar will never go down, no matter how much I exercise. I don't know if I'll actually do it, but it's just a thought. I have a few other areas that are, in my eyes, a bit lacking.
A month or so ago, I read this. It's like Pygmalion gone wrong. I could not believe what I was reading. That this man married her for her potential, and then operated on her himself. Turned her into something that she isn't. If you look at her before picture, there isn't anything wrong with her. She looks beautiful to me. Then you look at the after picture. She looks terrible. And then you look at the guy. And somehow it took almost $30,000 of plastic surgery for him to "fall in love" with his wife. Holy hell. Who is this man and why does he think so highly of himself. (ok, just pretend there is a question mark there. I'm having issues with that key right now.)
This morning, like most other mornings, the subject came up again. And while I would love to have a cup size bigger than an A, while I'd love to have a behind that actually filled out the back of my pants instead of being flat as a pancake, I'll take the body I was given. My husband didn't marry me for my potential and sees no need for me to surgically alter anything. He loves me the way I am, and wants me to be healthy. And I agree.
So, I've decided. No more conversations at the gym about this stuff. I'm going to stick to other topics of conversation, like how crappy the weather is, what is going on with my kids, and what I'm going to do that day. Or a million other things. Because it's not even worth talking about.
Did you know The French Salt rule?
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