The beer isn’t mine, but the soda is. And yeah, I probably beat myself up about drinking it.
So hey, okay, obviously I don’t post on here as often as I used to. And indeed, as often as I’d like. But I think I’m just gonna have to get over that. Like, stop beating myself up about it. Because look, if I really wanted to post more, then I’d find a way to post more, right?
I dunno, maybe?
See things have changed and these days I spend more time in gym clothes than in “regular” clothes. And pictures of the (seemingly but totally not, I promise) same black leggings and black singlet day after day is gonna get old.
And you know what else is getting old? This beating myself up thing. Because I’m doing it about the gym too (and also literally. What up, MMA!).
Listen I’ve been working out at a high intensity, consistently for like, the last 18 months or so. And I love it. Totally. I’ve just added a bunch of other classes and disciplines to my schedule and I am super pumped.
And yeah, I’ve noticed a difference. Other people have noticed a difference too. I’m stronger, have more muscle definition and I’ve leaned down a bit.
But you know what? Whenever I talk to someone about working out? I feel ashamed that I don’t have more of a “perfect” body to show for it.
Swear to god I was at a wedding recently, two of our good friends were getting married and I was talking to another friend who’s a personal trainer, and when I told him my weekly routine I immediately turned my body to try to shrink away as I made excuses about why I didn’t look like a fitness model.
What. The fuck!
I work my ass off across a bunch of different disciplines for multiple hours every week. I fall into bed exhausted. I sweat. I curse. I’m proud of what my body can do and yet, I betray it. All that hard work for me to turn around and be ashamed of the amazing result I already have… because it’s not enough.
Not enough for who? For what?
We’re constantly told we’re supposed to be thinner. Smaller. Why? WHY? No really, why? What purpose does being smaller serve? And are we ever small enough? It’s a constant, constant pursuit. A constant pursuit with a multi-billion dollar industry attached to it.
Have you ever thought what might happen if we stopped focusing on this elusive “perfection”?
If we weren’t distracted and kept busy constantly worrying about our weight and appearance, imagine what magnificently huge things we could accomplish! It’s almost as though the people behind the wheels are scared of what we could do if we focused our energy on other things instead of the size of our thighs.
Listen, I know I’ve talked about size before. It’s like there are these momentary flashes of clarity where I realise how utterly stupid it is to try and fit my wonderful body into some arbitrary size dictated by the lunatic Ouroboros that is society.
And so, in this momentary flash I’m going to write it down again. Let’s stop obsessing over this stupid SIZE thing.
Why, in the time it’s taken me to remind myself that it don’t mean shit, I probably could have come up with a solution to the amount of Brown Snakes inundating Guam.
Scarf: Jay Jays
Jacket: Was Mum’sBadges: All over the place