In this document I have 90 pages of more or less finished stories and as I was scrolling to pick something to polish and publish, I felt like I was standing in my underwear in front of a full closet and somehow had nothing to wear. Either the stories didn’t fit my mood, or I felt like I outgrew them, or they are not my style any more. So now, I either could stay home or say fuck it and just pick something out of the closet, and I usually chose the latest, which is why I decided to apply the same logic here, so now you get to enjoy the story mentioning a book I listen to at the begining of the year, and I only made it half way. I don’t remember the impression of the book, but I remember I was really hit hard by this part.
I’m listening to a book now, “Hungry Heart” by Jennifer Weiner and at one point Jennifer states “I’ll never be …” and lists all the things that she will never be or achieve.
I paused the book and immediately started making my own mental list of all the things that I know I will never do or be that at some point in time I thought would, or at least could, happen.
The 1st thing on that list is - I will never have a flat belly.
Because I will never have a flat belly.
You see my dear for a really long time, 13 to 30, I actively attempted to have a flat belly, only to end up creating a bigger belly. The past few years I’ve spent intentionally trying to accept this belly as is, however, I’ve never acknowledged that a flat belly I’ve wanted for so long will never happen.
I will never have a flat belly.
It is not just a statement, but also a conclusion to a part of existance that carries some muddied emotions with it. There is this kind of mental uncoupling, as if I am unhooking my train car and staying behind a racing “get flat belly” train.
I am sad that I was ever on that train. I’m angry that I wasted my time and energy on trying to get that flat belly. I am distraught over the fact that I spent years of my youth hating my perfectly human belly and my body. I am full of rage at myself and the world because I know this is still happening to other girls and women.
You see, after that break I kept listening to the book, and the author shares how she gave up on trying to change herself in order for others to accept her. She was in high school. And that is amazing! I wish so many of us had these realisations that early on and could let go of these ideals early on, spending our lives instead building and creating, - releasing the magic that is inside of us, instead of obsessing over our bellies.
But we don’t. I just did it now as I’m approaching 40, and there probably are other women out there who will never do it, which makes me so sad.
All this was to say that I love this exercise of letting things go - the things that we will never do or be, especially body ideals we picked up as teens and are still carrying around as if they are something useful and not crap that is bringing us down. As princess Elsa sings Let it go, Let it go….

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