Vanity

Dear readers
I am guilty. I confess. I admit I was doing it for all the wrong reasons. First, it began as a quest to get healthy, strengthen my bones due to the aging process. It felt good to stick to a regular routine and stay discipline. I slept better, had amazing energy, my skin glowed and I was on top of the world. It was all in vain. I worked out five days a week, hired a trainer attended yoga and spin class all for the wrong reasons. My main objective wasn’t to prevent heart decease or high blood. I worked out because I wanted to attrack a mate. I am guilty of falling into the trap of the beauty myth set forth by the male gaze. I am gulity of believing that if I developed and sustained the ideal body that I would have no problems attracting and keeping a partner. I never believed that men are attracted to women of various body types. The reason for my skepticism every beauty magazine, female actress, singer or public figure is presented as the perfect body size and judge on being the ” It girl”. I don’t know when and where I got the idea that having the ” perfect body” meant that I won’t be alone. There is a flaw to my stinkin thinkin, its my vanity and being overweight in my mind is considered unattractive. For years I watched the scale, and measured my waist. I stopped enjoying food and I developed a love hate relationship with anything that I deemed would ” go straight to my hips, thighs and buttocks”.  for years I didn’t look at myself in a full lenght mirror. when I am forced to try on clothing in a dressing room, I feel intimated by all the mirrors watching me from every angle.
Slowly I started to loose my battle to remain a perfect size 8. Little by little life got in the way and I  stopped working out and doing yoga. I let my guards down and began to nibble on the greasy fried foods that I denied myself for years. I gave into my sweettooth and now I can stop. The constant snacking is out of control. I feel ashame and weak. I failed me. When I look in the mirror I see an old body, sagging breast, wide hips, and untamed thighs. I want it back. I want it all back from the right reasons. Diabetes and high blood pressure runs in my family, so far I’ve been lucky. I want my body back for all the right reasons. I want to be as healthy as I can be at the age of 55. I need to eat cleaner, cut back on the sweets, I have a new work out plan thats reasonable and I have set small reachable goals. I will celebration to keep me motivated each time I achieve a goal. first one, rid myself of the extra 15 pounds. I want to feel good in my clothes, sleep better, have more energy, and get back to running my 3 miles and playing tennis. I need to love and except myself and work with what I have. The vain side of me will always be with me, but I won’t allow my vainty to persuade me that I am not good enough. And as far a s my future her mate, what you see is what you get.

The single life the Romance is Over

At the age of 45 , I had a revelation that I was no longer interested in being single. I didn’t put much thought into what I was going to do to solve my single status. So, I put the idea on the back-shelf planning to revisit it again.

…Fast-forward, now at the age of 52 the glitz and glamour of having the time and freedom to sleep late, cook or not to cook, sleeping in a fetus position to keep warm , and eating alone has soured.

The single life means being alone, having too much time to be alone; just me and the voices from the television or radio; and they don’t talk back or ask, ” how was your day?” In my house there is no one to pass the honey to do list to, because it’s just me, so, its more like things to do list.

I talk to people who drool with envy because they wish to have my life. I’ve come to the conclusion that they are in relationships, that no longer meets their needs, and they  believe that the grass is greener on the other side. It isn’t  until they abandon all that they have to cross over into single hood and have a oh Shit moment, Oops its to late, when they realize that what they needed to do was to  pay attention to the weeds ( boredom) that grow in their yard

( relationship); and if they had taken the time to care for and revive their grass ( spouse) then maybe thing would have remained green ( happy). Now, the other side ( single-hood) is not as green , plush and happy as they thought. The silence of an empty house is loudest when your alone. the bed never feels comfortable no matter how expensive the sheets or  how warm the comforter; so what is a single person to do?

Most people run out and adopt “Fido,” only to find out that their beloved pet is more of responsibility than a shared committed relationship with a human. I found myself competing with the younger generation of women, them the Millennial, me the Baby Boomer , and they seem to be winning. The male Baby Boomers no longer want my type, strong, focused, responsible and intelligent. They desire young, hot, shapely, badonkadon ( big Butt), ride’em, hard  and hit them fast spontaneous vixens.

These days people  few people start a relationship the old fashion way; like being matched up by friends. Instead, I am doomed to online dating, dam to the age of technology. Night after night, I sit in front of my computer shifting through profiles of men whose pictures resemble mug shots. Reading lie after lie about they are adventurous, romantic and hope to find ” the one, ” yeah, more like the one for the night. Do I sound bitter?  Well, I am. Dating should  not have to be  difficult, and is not a game. People feelings are real and the ones out there like me waiting, wanting and hoping to find the right partner, the deceivers make trusting others a challenge. Anyway, I am going to keep hope alive.

What Say You?