Genetics is a funny thing. For the most part, when you're young, you can see the obvious traits that one of your parents gave you. Simple stuff like your nose or your height or your smile. When you have siblings, it's easy to see the pattern repeating.
When you get older though, that's when you really start to see your grandparents start to emerge in your face and form and even in your health.
I come from a German/English heritage. My people are stocky, the women full bosomed and no one is taller than 5'10. Blue eyed curly haired blondes and brown eyed, stick straight brunettes.
Growing up, I was sort of the odd man out. Taller than my sisters at 5'8 and flat chested to boot, I was the mailman's kid. Toothpick Tami was my nickname in grade school.
As I grew into adulthood I gained more weight and got boobs besides and while I would from time to time go on a diet to fit the approved mold of what a woman should look like, I never really felt all that fat.
I was a big healthy girl at 165 lbs, but I was happy in my sized 14 skin.
And then middle age came galloping along and I have slowly watched the pounds creep on. Not all in one place either.
It's almost as if I put my thumb in my mouth and blew on it. I just got bigger everywhere.
Thicker. The shape is the same, just bigger. Wider.
Now let's not jump to the obvious conclusion that I'm going to whine about my weight in this post . Or talk about loosing it. No lectures please about the joys of Weight Watchers.
It's all white noise to me. I'm just not a diet person.
I subscribe to "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree" theory of life and I actually expected to gain some weight in my middle years.
I'm physically active and try to keep myself in good repair with nice hair and makeup. The occasional pedicure. And so far SM hasn't run screaming from the house in disgust over my spare tire, my slowly greying hair or the softening of the flesh beneath my chin. (There's a double chin there just screaming to come out, I just know it!)
I guess that's my point.
One of the blessings of menopausal wisdom is that I've become more accepting of who I am. And also more accepting of who SM's become.
I am what I am and I like me just fine. You are who you are and I love you just the same.
And it seems that so far SM feels that same way about me too. And that's a good thing cause if he stopped liking it, then I would say that it was his problem not mine.
That's not to say that I haven't gone through a bit of a personal crisis. With the weather warming up, I'd discovered that NONE of my summer clothes fit me very well. Muffin top, buttons that wouldn't close, tops that molded to my pudgy curves.
To say I had a bit of a melt down would be an understatement. But SM shrugged it off, hugged me and encouraged me to go shopping for new clothes. He saw my frustration and we talked about (with all my hormonal changes) my desire to NOT be hating myself for the weight gain. I had bigger fish to fry with the flashes, irritability, loss of sleep...blah, blah, blah.
So I went out shopping and discovered that the sizes ran up to size 14 but then stopped.
"Don't you carry size 16?"
"Yes, but those always sell out first."
"So you're telling me that I'm a normal sized American women?"
Frustrated with the usual department stores, I finally discovered Lane Bryant whose designers seem to understand the needs of a curvier figure. Three sets of shorts and a bathing suit later I'm now happy that I can appear out in public looking somewhat respectable.
I know for a lot of you this is old news.
Been there, done that yourself.
So tell me about it. When was your "apple" moment?