Body Image

Disclaimer: If you don't like reading long, picture-less, some-what personal posts skip this one.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about body image. For those of you who aren't aware, I have struggled with weight related issues for the majority of my life. I was a chubby kid and when I was in high school I lost a lot of weight (in a pretty unhealthy way). Since then I gradually gained back the weight I lost (and then some). For years it has been a consuming issue for me-- constantly in the back of my mind-- making me anxious, depressed, and even hate my own body.
Not long after Ruby was born I had an "a-ha" moment (to borrow a phrase from Oprah). I remember looking at her and thinking how beautiful she is. I was struck by the thought that someday she'd turn into a teenage girl who hated her body and it really hurt me. I started to cry and said a prayer that she'd always remember to see herself as I do, as her Heavenly Father does; that she'd be grateful for her 10 fingers and 10 toes; that she'd find joy in walking, and running, and playing; that she'd feel good in her own skin; and that she'd see her body as a gift from God to accomplish great things.
Not long after that I found myself on my knees asking for the same thing for myself. How can I teach my daughter to appreciate her body and have a healthy self-image if I don't?
So, here I am trying to live a healthy lifestyle. I don't like to talk about it much; partly because it is such a deep-rooted issue for me and partly because I don't want to jinx my success. Since August I've lost about 30 pounds and made exercise a weekly habit. I still have at least 30 more pounds to lose before I'm at optimum health, but I try not to think about it much because this is about so much more than losing weight. This is about taking care of myself, enjoying the beautiful gift of health before I'm too old to crawl on the floor after babies and hike 10 miles with my family. This is about setting an example for my daughter. But this is also about learning to love and accept who I am. Let's face the facts: I will probably never fit into those size 5 jeans (that are hiding under my bed) again; and even if I do I will always have pregnancy stretch marks. My skin will start to wrinkle in the next few years and the girls will continue to go South (if you know what I mean). But, I refuse to spend the rest of my life looking in the mirror hating what I see. It seems like such a miserable way to exist.
This is a journey--it will probably take me a lifetime to figure it out, but for right now I like where I am and I like where I'm going.