I recently witnessed what can only be described as a verbal vomit war. This competition took place between two delightfully beautiful young women. Both of these ladies are very fit, physique competitors.
Their exchange made me wonder a couple of things. As they began their debate about who's butt was worse I wondered where does this bile come from. I also wondered as it ramped up...how can I stop this.
In my carb depleted haze I was thankful and grateful for our friend and fellow competitor who let them spill for a minute and then put the kibosh on it. "Enough!" she said. "You're done with the verbal vomit!"
These are girls who, technically, could be my daughters. I wondered about my own body image when I was 20, 21 years old. I was as it happened, in the worst shape of my life.
The vomit came so fast it was like an autonomic response to being in their posing suits. Was this a self-protection mechanism? Did they believe the things they said? Sitting there looking at wonderful bodies, I didn't see how they possibly could.
Having worked so hard, training and dieting I believe they must be confident and proud of what they will display on contest day. The war must have been a fluke, a girl-trigger, a tick.
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| Yep, that's me in the middle! |
This photo is of me, in the middle, at 20-21 years old. My beautiful mother is on the right, and my big sister is on the left (sorry, let's just embrace the '90s).
I had eaten myself out of dating, of relationships, of feelings, and of failures. I wasn't self aware enough to have a verbal vomit war about my body with anyone, I was padded from the world, numb. Fat.
If I had half the awareness, the confidence, the connection to exercise that these young ladies do at their age...who knows where I'd be. I had to laugh thinking to myself - wait until you see your butt when it's 41! But who knows...it might just be the best butt ever.
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