From Fat to Fabulous!: Reward Yourself

When I first began my successful journey to finally shed the kilos I tried to visualise myself at the end. I started with a somewhat unrealistic picture of a sexy Bo Derek me walking out of a calm blue ocean onto golden sand, my head seductively flicking my mane of hair as water beaded off my sun-tanned body. Every eye on the beach mesmerised by my new svelte figure.

Surprisingly this image did not inspire me. Perhaps it was the stretch marks on my belly so lovingly left behind by Jim's arrival. Perhaps it was the fact I had cellulite on my thighs which even now refuses to completely budge. Or perhaps it was the fact that even if I did manage to lose enough weight, gain a 6 pack (the stomach kind, not the beverage) and grab a tan like good ol' Bo's I still wouldn't have the mental confidence to wear a string bikini with gold fringing at the nether regions. Surely, it had to be the gold string bikini I found so off putting ;o)

Realistically however, I think it was more to do with the fact that I was aspiring to be something I actually never will be. I do have a road map of stretchies on my belly from both bubs expansion in-utero. I am truly human and have the odd cottage cheese thigh (make that two) and sadly, I have one breast which seriously outshines the other in the size department. Yep, let's face it, I am human, a typical poster girl for a busy suburban Mum.

Hollywood and media advertising have a lot to answer for when it comes to images of what we think the perfect women looks like. We automatically think of the 'Elle's' of this world and aspire to what seems to be bodily perfection. However, for many of us we'd be grateful with a little shrinkage in the hip department, a stomach which was at best taut, and a butt which does not require it's own post code.

Once I realised I was aiming for things which are not entirely healthy (or realistic), I decided to redefine my goals. I changed my desire to be like Bo, to a desire to be fit, strong, confident, happy, and sexy in my own skin. When I changed my thinking I began to see my body for the amazing things it has done and not the things it might never be. I saw my stretch marks as signs that my body was able to carry life. I saw my right breast (yes, only my right) as a source of nutrition and comfort for my babies, and I saw my cellulite and cushy butt as a sign of a soft and comfortable place to sit at the end of a hard day.

Along the way to realising and appreciating these things I rewarded myself. A massage here, a chocolate there. New clothes at times and shoes to match (of course). I try and reward myself quite often to acknowledge my success. I'll buy a face mask and plan a night of pampering. A hot chocolate, or dinner, out with friends. Clothes which allow my curves to be seen in all their glory, an hour at a day spa to allow someone else to work away my muscle pain from jogging, lingerie for Muscle Man (hmm, that reads well). Yes, rewards are essential. They not only affirm the hard work we do, but they also give meaning to the sweat, tears and tantrums (kids and mine) along the way.

I absolutely still have moments where I look in a mirror naked and frighten myself. I have days at a time where I'll wish I had a get rich quick scheme so I could have a Mummy tuck, a 'left' breast enhancement, and liposuction. I have moments where I catch a glimpse of my butt and cringe and then worry that if I turn around to fast I'll knock the kids down (jokes). I know that to some degree I probably always will have these little hang ups. None the less I can honestly say that these moments are now fewer then the ones where I feel immense satisfaction with all my body can and has achieved. And for that, I reward myself. I have indeed come along way.